For The Passion of Thy Love
by fuyu jin
Summary: When Aragorn was sent to Mirkwood by his father, he met Prince Legolas, and his world was thrown upside down, especially when he fell in love with the Prince. My first attempt of A/L fic. WARNING: Slash, obviously, as well as mpreg in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Hey guys, newbie here when in comes to LOTR fics, and a slash fic at that. Anyway, please be kind to me, I beg you, have mercy. Story is totally based on Margaret Moore's A Warrior's Passion. I love this authoress. ^_^ Hope you will enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own characters from LOTR; they belong to Tolkien, I SWEAR!!!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 1

Legolas Greenleaf fidgeted with his fingers as he stands, his back leaning against the wall opposite to the door of the throne room. He slowly dragged his gaze on the door, studying its intricate designs – for the hundredth time that day. After 'studying' the door, he then turned his head on the left, then on the right, scanning the empty corridor with all his might. The hallway was dimly lit by the torches on the wall. So much for an eleven kingdom!

Unfortunately, it is the least that he can do as he waited for his father, King Thranduil, to summon him in the throne room, granted that the king remembered his supposedly meeting with him.

He took a deep breath, the he pushed himself off the wall, straightened his back, smoothened out his royal blue tunic, and swept his hands throughhis long blonde hair – again, for the hundredth time that day.

A creaking sound made him look up at the door, and then a raven haired elf came out from the not-fully opened door, bowed low to him, and looked at him with a stoic face.

"The king requires your presence, my prince," the elf said

Legolas followed the elf inside the room. As soon as his presence was announced to the king, he slowly made his way towards the throne, stopping a few feet from the dais, and made his obeisance to the king.

The king sat there in his throne, high, mighty, and proud as usual. Several elves clad in dark green tunic and brown leggings, with light brown cloak draped around their shoulders stood in either side of the aisle, giving him a smug look. It didn't matter to them that he is the king's son, for it didn't also matter to the king that he is his son. Of all the male elves in Mirkwood, he is the only different one: pale skin, pale blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, full lips, delicate-looking face, and thin body, too much thin for their liking. In short, he looks like an elleth rather than an ellon, and by the standards of his people, his look is nothing more than ugly. For a male to not have a muscular and fierce look, it is just so disgusting and a disgrace.

"Legolas," his father's bellowing voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"You wanted me father?" He asked as he bowed his head.

"I never wanted you," his father growled.

Legolas fought back the urge to roll his eyes. What's new?

His father leaned forward with a grunt. "You are a disgrace to the wood elves, as well as to me."

Legolas meet his father's gaze. "I know. You never failed to remind it, my liege." He answered evenly, becoming tired of this preliminary criticism that would always be a start of their real conversation.

"And yet, you still have some use to me."

"What task would you require me?" Legolas inquired, thinking of what else his father didn't have him do.

King Thranduil scowled and set his piercing green eyes on him. "We're going to have a _very_ important visitor here: he crown prince of Gondor. He is coming here to conclude a trade agreement.

Legolas nodded , understanding dawned upon him. "I will see to it that everything is prepared for him and his men.""

"He is to come here alone, as a sign of the king's trust to me. I've already sent my best warriors to escort him from Rivendell to here. All of his entourage will stay back at Rivendell."

_ Then that's good._ Legolas smiled inwardly. _The few the better_.

"Very well father," Legolas said, bowing his head again. "I will insure that all is ready for the prince."

"There's one more thing," his father said before he could turn to leave.

"What is that father?"

"You are to see that the prince is kept…happy…and satisfied…while his in our care."

Legolas s lightly tilted his head on the side as his eyes narrowed. It did not ease his suspicions when his father did not meet his gaze. "I'm afraid that I wasn't able to catch the meaning of that, father. Can you be so kind to tell me what does that supposed to mean?"

When his father didn't answer, his suspicions grew and anger began to build up in his chest.

"Your Highness?" He asked again, still, there is no answer. He let out a heavy sigh.

"Are you suggesting that I sleep with this man? For what? To satisfy this man's lust so that the trade agreement will somehow be secured? Father, I know that I am not a beauty compared to everyone, but it does not make me so desperate as to offer myself to anyone like a whore!"

"Did I tell you to sleep with the man?" Her father retorted. "All I have asked of you is that you make sure that my guest is happy and satisfied."

Legolas squared his shoulders and said firmly, "I will see that his quarters are prepared as befits his rank, as well as all of his necessities. Anything that goes beyond that is no longer my concern."

His father leaned back at his chair and gave him a scrutinizing look. "You're way past your majority, Legolas," he remarked. "You could do a lot worse than Prince Elessar. His father is the king of Gondor. Maybe if –"

"I went to his bed, he would marry me?" He didn't even attempt to hide his disgust. "Tell me father, why would he do that if you're suggesting that he could have me for free?"

King Thranduil regarded his youngest son coldly. "May I remind you, that all your miserable life, I've fed and clothed you, letting you live like a leech on my skin. I think it is time now for someone else to take you."

"And you will offer me like some kind of trade goods?"

"If I must."

"I am your son!"

"So what? I have other sons that are surely better than you. Other sons that can fight and make me proud. But you? What can you do? Do household chores that are meant for women to do? Why did you even came into my life anyway?"

"I did not ask to be born!"

"No, and as a matter of fact, I did not ask for you either!"

"I will not shame myself –"

His father suddenly rose and quickly strode towards him, grabbing his shoulders tightly, so tight that he winced in pain. "Shame?! Tell me, have I not shamed myself for thousands of years, since the day you were born? Shame to have a son that is weak and skinny and resembles an elleth in all ways! Shame that a son of mine is ugly! Shame that no elf, neither male nor female would have her, no matter how much I offer!"

He had heard it all before, still, it did not stop the pain in his chest, but he was surprised when he heard the last part, for it was a new addition to his father's speech.

"How much?" He asked as soon as he took hold of his emotions and schooled a stoic face.

Now, it was the king's turned to be surprised. "What?"

"How much were you willing to pay for someone to have me?"

King Thranduil gathered his self again, then slowly walked back to his chair. "It matters not."

"It does to me. I want to know my worth."

King Thranduil sat on his chair and stared at him steadily, his face is blank.

"Five hundred pieces of gold."

And still no one wanted him! He felt like crumbling on the floor and cry his heart out. What a joke. He is such a joke. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run, and he wanted to unleash all his hurt, his dismay, his sadness… But no, he would not, he could not. He mastered himself again.

"It's a pity then, no one wants to take me from your side." He said coldly. "But I've had enough. I'll continue to do my duty – but no more, not for you or any man."

"Son -!"

"Servant," Legolas interjected. "I've never been your son, I'm just your servant. Perhaps father, you should have just ended my life ere it became miserable. But it's too late for that now. If you'll excuse me, my liege, I still need to see the preparations for our guest."

With that, Legolas turned on his heel and marched out.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Holding the reigns of his horse to secure himself atop of the animal, Aragorn traveled his gaze at his surroundings. Big, tall trees surround them, one is the perfect imitation of the other. The trees' heavy boughs obscure any light from the sun, giving the forest a dark and ominous environment. Its as if the trees have eyes and they are now staring at the party of elves and a man. Actually, Aragorn felt like the trees are looking just only at him.

Thank Eru that he didn't have to live in a place like this. Rather, all he had to do is to stay in Mirkwood for a couple of days to reach an agreement with King Thranduil.

Aragorn's father, King Arathorn, believed that through this agreement, not only an alliance will be forged between Gondor and Mirkwood, but it would also help to make Gondor more prosperous than it already was.

His father also warned him about the Elven King. It is said that King Thranduil is a tricky elf, he would rant and rave and try to wear him down with his dramatics, if the King has not yet intimidated him. Well, that's the reason why he was the one his father sent for this mission. Having grown up with the elves of Rivendell, as well as in the wilds, he has the patience to wear the Elven King instead, and would not be intimidated easily.

Oh yes, he do have patience, as well as the ability to overlook emotional outbursts, which in his opinion, is a child thing. He doesn't only have patience with things such as business and negotiations, but also in the matters of the heart. Aragorn was no virgin, but unlike his best friend Boromir, he made no declarations of passionate and everlasting love to any woman…or man. Why would he, when he felt nothing but pleasure of physical union? Never had he felt the desire, the longing, and the true love for anyone, not even with Arwen, the most beautiful lady he had ever set his eyes upon on. What he felt for Arwen was just admiration and childish love, but true love, nay.

The company halted in front of a stone wall looming over them. The captain of the elves gave out an order, and several elves slid off their horse then disappear into the surrounding trees. Aragorn look at the captain and gave him a questioning look.

"'Tis for security purposes, my lord. We must be sure that no enemies have followed our trail, or is watching as in the moment. We are about to enter the kingdom as soon as the scouts returned." The captain explained, and Aragorn nodded in understanding.

Though he was quiet confused as to where the kingdom is, and how are they going to enter it from their location, he still felt relieved that their journey is about to end, and he could finally refresh himself. Instead of just sitting idly on his horse, Aragorn slid off his stead and ready himself with his meeting with the King. He put on his mithril coat, top it with a black leather jerkin with the insignia of Gondor, then he draped his best cloak on his shoulders and clasped it with a star-shaped jewel brooch, he then strapped his sword, Anduril, on his waist.

As he did so, Aragorn felt that he will definitely succeed in this mission. He believed that he would conclude this business in no time.

Such is the folly of young me.

_Tbc….._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sorry for my bad fashion sense…. Anyway, please read and review,. Please be kind to me, HAVE MERCY!!!! ^_^;


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Here I go… Umm… I know that Thranduil here is cruel, but, hey, this is AU, so everything is possible. Yes, this is totally super, ultra, hyper AU. Okay, okay, it didn't do him justice. I apologize if Thranduil's character here is so unbecoming an elf. I, for one, really like it when he is the oh-so-loving-and-adorable-father, but I must do this to him, it goes along with the story. I'm sorry, but the least I can do is to improve Thranduil's character through out the story. Pleas bear with me, just this one ^_^;. And Legolas is not Thranduil's heir here. As it was stated in the first chapter, he is Thranduil's youngest son. And about my grammar, yeah, I know my English sucks. But I'll try to improve it, I swear, I'll really try (blood starts to drop from the nose…). Thank you for my reviewers and their comments. I'll try to improve this story. I'll do my best!!! \^-^/

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 2

A few moments later, the scouts returned from their scouting and gave their reports to their captain. Aragorn mounted his chestnut stead and waited patiently as the scouts returned to their position at the rear of the company.

The captain looked at him briefly, as if saying 'watch me,' before facing the stone wall. He shouted something in elvish and a voice answered in the same language from within the wall. Then, to Aragorn's astonishment, the ground trembled weakly and the stone wall in front of them opened. A cavern was revealed to Aragorn, and from where he was he could clearly see a place of magnificence. The captain faced him, and then swept his hand to gesture to the city within the cavern.

"The city of us wood elves, my Prince Elessar, the realm of our Elven King Thranduil," the captain announced proudly, and then motioned for the company to enter the city.

When Aragorn stepped inside, he became unaware of the stonewall closing behind them, for all that he was aware of was the full grandeur of the elven realm: rich, green grass covered the ground; tall, sturdy trees, but so unlike those that were outside, surrounded the city; talans of wonderful structure were built on top of these trees; the elves were merely doing their own business, and elflings were running around, playing with other elves within their age gap. But what really caught Aragorn's attention was the fact that, sunlight was illuminating the whole place, and he could really fell its warmth against his skin. He looked up instinctively, and found out that, what was supposed to be the cavern's ceiling was in fact an open space that allowed the sunlight during the day, and moonlight and starlight during the night.

The company moved forward, and as they did so, Aragorn felt the eyes of the elves on him, but he paid that no mind. He could tell that these were not gazes of awe, but of wariness, and he could not blame them for that. He was, after all, a human. It was really a surprise, that considering the past dislike of their King to the human race, he still agreed to try to conclude a trade agreement with them. Unlike Rivendell, Mirkwood was not that open with other races. As far as Aragorn knew, Laketown was the only human community Mirkwood has dealings with. Oh well, he always believed that change was one of the constant things in this world.

As they moved forward, Aragorn noticed a vast building in front. Unlike the talans that was made of wood, that structure was made up of stone. A stone castle, Aragorn realized. As they neared the castle, Aragorn saw a group of elves waiting for them at the foot of the stair that leads inside. He quickly recognized King Thranduil standing at the middle. The King was garbed in a light green robe, a dark green sash embroidered with gold thread was fastened at his waist; dark brown boots adorned with fur-like material protected his feet; heavy, dark green cloak was draped around his shoulders, clasped with two small brooches of gold and emeralds on either side; two thin chains of gold, above and below, linked the brooches in front; the King wore several jewelries and a crown of flowers and berries adorned his dark blonde hair.

The company halted a few feet from the waiting elves. Then Aragorn slid off his horse and walked towards the King. King Thranduil stepped forward to meet Aragorn halfway. Aragorn curtsied at the King. King Thranduil clasped his shoulders and he did the same.

"Welcome, Prince Elessar, to Mirkwood," Thranduil said though his face betrayed nothing.

"I thank you, King Thranduil. My father, King Arathorn, sends his greetings and some gifts from Gondor," Aragorn responded gravely.

The King's eyes gleamed with pleasure and greed, betraying his stoic façade, or so Aragorn thought. The King released his shoulder and Aragorn followed suit. The King turned around and motioned for Aragorn to follow him, which he did, as well as the other waiting elves.

"I assume that you want to refresh yourself after such a long journey, but why not join us first in the hall for a cup of wine?" Thranduil offered as soon as they stepped inside the entrance door of the palace.

"A fine idea, my liege. It will greatly soothe my thirst," Aragorn responded, not really wanting to disappoint the King.

"I'm glad it pleases you," King Thranduil said, then turned his head to look at Aragorn. "A fine coat you have there, Elessar," King Thranduil noted in a surprisingly conversational tone. "The sword's a marvel, too," he added as he returned his head as it were.

"The mithril coat was a gift from the dwarves of the lonely mountains, while the cloak was a gift from Lord Elrond's family. These were given to me during my begetting day," Aragorn explained truthfully. "The sword, Anduril, was an heirloom of our family, and the brooch was ever the sign of the Dunedain."

King Thranduil gave him a sidelong glance. "I see, wonderful indeed." The rest of their walk was spent in silence. They walked through a dimly-lit hallway illuminated only by lit torches placed on the stone wall. They halted in front of large wooden doors, which two servants pushed open, and walked into the room. Large windows with heavy curtains draped on the sides let the sunlight in, providing illumination for the room. A long table stood at the center with plates and goblets already arranged.

A sudden movement at Aragorn's right caught his eye and he swiftly turned to see a young elf walking towards them. He was clad in a dark green tunic and dark brown leggings; a silver sash was wrapped around his waist, his long pale blonde hair was braided in a semi-ponytail.

As the young elf walked towards them, the elf looked steadily at Aragorn. The elf's azure eyes showed an expression that Aragorn had never seen before – half defiant pride, and half yearning vulnerability.

In that moment, it was as if Aragorn forgot how to breath and his heart had ceased to beat. Then in a blink of an eye, his heart came to life again, thudding with a rapid drumbeat that surely had to be audible.

The young elf did not speak nor move, just stood there in front of them, but continued to regard Aragorn with a steady gaze.

"Legolas," Thranduil broke the ice. Legolas looked at King Thranduil for a moment, then turned his attention back to Aragorn and gave him a low bow as he put his right hand on his chest.

"Welcome to Mirkwood, my lord,"

Aragorn offered a smile as he inclined his head in response. But as he did so, a powerful surge of longing flowed through him and a wild thought sprang into his mind. Had Thranduil set him to wait here because he was to be his servant while he was staying in this realm?

"Elessar, this is Legolas, my youngest son," Thranduil informed him.

Thranduil's _son?_ Aragorn's eyes widened in disbelief. This delicate looking young elf with eyes that could bewitch anyone was a male? And the offspring of the fierce, stoic and pompous King Thranduil? Aragorn chastised himself. Of course it's a male, the elf was wearing leggings! Aragorn realized that the King was watching him closely, and another wild thought entered his mind. Did King Thranduil thought of using his son as bait in this negotiation? He had learned that the King of Mirkwood always gets his way in any negotiations, and maybe, setting his lovely and intriguing son to bewitch a mortal man was one of his ploys. Aragorn schooled his feature into an expressionless one.

"Legolas, this is our honored guest, Prince Elessar of Gondor," Thranduil continued, breaking his chain of thoughts. Legolas clasped his shoulder, and he to him.

"It is an honor to meet you, Prince Elessar," Legolas said, and offered a small smile.

"The honor is mine, Prince Legolas," Aragorn replied, and they let go of each other's shoulder.

He had to be bewitched! Definitely! No one ever made him feel as Legolas had, not even Arwen! A shiver ran through Aragorn as he turned away. If his wild thought was true, then his task here might be more difficult than he had assumed. King Thranduil was far more clever and tricky than he had anticipated. No wonder so few dared to venture an agreement with him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Legolas stared after Aragorn as the Gondorian prince strode towards the table to take his seat at King Thranduil's right. He then followed suit and took his seat on his father's left.

He had somewhat expected that the prince would look good and noble, but when the prince first entered the hall, what he beheld surpassed all of his expectations: tall, grey-eyed warrior with dark, wavy, shoulder-length hair that brushed broad, muscular shoulders. His skin was sun brown and his face handsome with stubbles. His nose was remarkably perfect, his jaw strong like the rest of him. He was well dressed as befitting a noble prince. And when the prince's grave, grey eyes looked into his azure ones, his heart beat rapidly like the movement of a bird's wings and his stomach was filled with thousands of butterflies.

Then a shocking realization hit him: if his father made his outrageous request of him again, here and now, he would definitely agree. Indeed, if his father proposed a marriage with the man, he would accept him on the spot.

Unfortunately, the prince's smile died down and his face wore a mask of indifference when he learned who he was.

Why?

Perhaps he kept his smiles only to those who would be more procurable and appropriate bed companions compared to the child of his host. Maybe his own astonishing desire was too evident, and the prince thought he could toy with him, encouraging or dismissing him as whim or strategy suggested. Such was the way of men.

His jaw clenched at the thought. No, he had had enough of being a servant in his own home, he would not be a toy of some stranger, much more a mortal. He must and would subdue this wild excitement coursing through him, this sudden burning desire for a man he had only just met.

The members of his father's council began to take their places at the table, and his train of thoughts was interrupted as his father introduced them to Prince Elessar, one by one. His father gave him a look and he instantly got the hint. He motioned at the servants, who in turn, served the food and wine. Legolas noticed that some of the council members were murmuring with each other and casting wary glances at the prince.

Not all of them approved an alliance with men. No, that was not quiet right, they all didn't approve of it. It's just that, they would not question the king's decision, albeit others bravely voiced out their concerns. Actually, even he did not understand his father. He knew that his father still felt dislike with the race of men, yet he considered King Arathorn's offer for a trade agreement. Oh well, who knows what's going on inside his father's mind? A servant poured him some wine and he gracefully lifted his cup to take a sip.

"So, how is Gondor faring?" King Thranduil inquired to Aragorn while putting fruits, bread and cheese on his plate.

"It's faring well, my lord. Trade agreements from other realms had been successful and continue making Gondor more prosperous, as we do with our allies," Aragorn replied.

"Good, dood. And the King and Queen, how do they fare?"

"They're doing well. Their bond is going strong. Just like wine, as they say, the older the better."

"I see. That's good." King Thranduil took a sip from his cup before proceeding. "By the way, Elessar. I've heard that…you had some understanding with Lord Elrond's only daughter, Arwen, the Evenstar of our people.

Legolas couldn't help listening as their guest responded in his deep, musical voice.

"Aye, for a time. But we both realized that it was just but a passing fancy, nothing more," Aragorn replied, his face expressionless.

"Ah, pity. The union of you two would have created a strong alliance between Rivendell and Gondor, not to mention, with Lothlorien also, somewhat."

Legolas choked on his wine by his father's blunt statement. He managed to mutter an apology in between his coughing fit. When he finally calmed down, he raised his eyes to see his father glowering at him while Aragorn's face betrayed absolutely nothing as he raised his own cup and drank his wine. Then he set down the cup and matter-of-factly said:

"If we do not love each other, then there was no reason for our fathers to wed us.

"Oh, come on now, Elessar," King Thranduil protested, a mocking smile on his face. "Your fathers would –"

"Never use their children to further their own ambitions," Aragorn cut in, directing a pointed gaze at Legolas, then to his host. "Anyway, Gondor and Rivendell already have a strong alliance, even without the marriage."

Legolas flushed with humiliation and his hands gripped his cup until his knuckles went white. He knew what the prince is implying and he wanted nothing more than to repeat his words to his father earlier. Yet, he dared not do that. Not in front of his father's council and their guest. Instead, he calmed himself and silently continued his meal.

Aragorn tried not to notice Legolas' blushing face. It was more important that King Thranduil realized that he was aware that he might be trying to use his son as bait. Aragorn commanded himself to ignore Legolas. He must close this negotiation in a way that the two kingdoms would benefit fairly, if not mostly for Gondor's interest. No, he would not fall victim in King Thranduil's trap. The king would soon realize that there was more to him than meets the eye. He would not be easily trapped by this kind of lures, no matter how tempting.

Forcing himself to concentrate on his host, Aragorn gazed steadily at King Thranduil, then said evenly, "Love and marriage are not something I care to discuss.

"So we won't," the king agreed nonchalantly, indulging himself instead to the fine selection of fruits, bread and cheese on his plate. Aragorn did the same as he passed a glance at Legolas, who, sitting opposite to him, seemed to be concentrating on his food. He wondered if he knew about his father's scheme. It would be better to think of him as a conspirator. That way, he could control his wayward emotions towards him.

"I confess that my father was surprised that you agreed about his suggestion of a trade agreement," he remarked suddenly, determined to speak of other things. "He feared you would not wish to be associated with any save your own people."

Thranduil let out a low chuckle. "I do not deny that I used to detest the human race. But through the years, I began to think, why would I set a limit on who I trade with, or whose goods I carry for profit?"

"Indeed," Aragorn agreed. "By the way, King Thranduil, I was informed that you have five sons. I wonder where the other four are."

"They are on border patrol," Thranduil informed. "I apologize if my heir is not here to welcome you, as well as my other sons. It can't be helped. But worry not; my youngest son is here anyway. He will see to everything you need while you stay here. But enough of this talking," the king rose and lifted his cup. "To an alliance between Mirkwood and Gondor!"

The rest of the elves got to their feet, including Aragorn, raised their cups and drank.

King Thranduil sat back to his chair, while Aragorn remained standing and addressed his host. "If you will excuse me, my lord. I believe I should retire for the night. It has been a tiring journey, and tomorrow we have much to discuss.

King Thranduil nodded. "Very well," he then turned to Legolas. "Legolas, show our guest to his quarters.

Aragorn kept his face impassive, though he was quite surprised that the king would make his son show his quarters instead of one of his servants.

Legolas stood up from his chair and said nothing, though he regarded his father with a blank expression. Aragorn turned his unruffled gaze onto Legolas, who, in turn, steadily looked back at him. Legolas then bid Aragorn to follow him, and then proceeded to the door. Aragorn bowed to his host and followed Legolas outside.

_Tbc…._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Whew! Another chapter, up! Ahh… my nose is still bleeding… Ai, Elbereth… ^-^V

Well? Comments? Suggestions? Violent reactions?


	3. Chapter 3

My say:

**Aralas – **Hey, thanks for pointing out the 'curtsied' thing. Honestly, when I read your comment about that, I couldn't help laughing myself. I couldn't also imagine Aragorn in a skirt. I'm still broadening my vocabulary, sorry. I thought that 'curtsied' is just the same as 'gave obeisance or bowed' or something. 'Tis only now that I found out that it involve the art of lifting the skirt and bending the legs. Haha, please keep pointing out any misused words that you can find, I will really appreciate it. Oh, and I'm glad I somehow improved my tenses in chapter 2. I'll do my best in later chapters. ^_^V

**AineSparrow** – The sure LOTR characters that will appear in the future are Arartorn and Gilraen…and Boromir maybe. I still don't know if I can include the others, but there will surely be OCs.

**To my other reviewers** – Thank you for your reviews and please keep on reminding me of my mistakes. I know that I'm not that good in English, but you can point out funny things, hehe, like the 'curtsied' thing, haha. Well anyway, thanks, and here is the third chapter. Enjoy!

I don't own LOTR. AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU ^_^V

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 3

Legolas forced himself to walk regally and gracefully, while all he wanted to do was to drag his feet to show his reluctance, as he led the way to the palace's left wing where the guests were customarily housed. Unlike the hallway that they walked through earlier, the passage that led to the guest quarters was not enclosed. Instead of having a stone wall on the right, it was actually an open space with arcs and stone railings, thus, letting the light from the setting sun lighten the way.

Looking straight ahead, Legolas tried to concentrate on his walking and not of Prince Elessar's proximity as they walked together in the pool of waning sunlight.

In the silence of the waning day, the rustling of leaves as they swayed on a passing breeze filled his ears, as if trying to soothe his throbbing heartbeat. There were also the echoing footsteps of his companion that seemed like the ticking of time as it passed by.

Then he realized there was another sound. Prince Elessar, wrapped in his fine cloak, like a phantom lingering in time, breathtaking and frightening at the same time, was singing an elvish hymn. He instantly recognized the song: The Lay of Luthien. He listened as the song flowed with Elessar's fine timbre. There was a melancholy to his voice, an inward sadness that seemed to pull an answering loneliness deep within him.

But how could a prince so loved and respected by his people understand that kind of loneliness that was his daily lot?

The song stopped and the abrupt silent that engulfed them urged him to speak. "You sing well."

Elessar's stepped faltered a moment, as if he had been oblivious to his own actions. "Thank you."

"I didn't know that men can sing that well."

"I have just been blessed."

Elessar seemed to be reluctant to continue the conversation, so he didn't insist. They just continued in silence until they reached Elessar's designated quarters.

Legolas turned the knob, pushed open the door and slipped inside. As Prince Elessar followed in, he pushed the heavy window curtain aside to let the orange light illuminate the room. He also opened the window to let the breeze in. The walls were painted in cream; the floor was covered with light-colored carpet, a small table was facing an unlit hearth, on its right side was a long sofa, while two small ones on the other. Legolas faced their guest.

"This is the sitting room," he said shortly before turning to a door at the right and beckoned the prince to follow him.

The door led them to an adjacent room. Inside, leaning against the wall was a four poster bed with white canopy, a bedside table, a closte, a small sofa seat facing another unlit hearth, balcony doors instead of windows, and another door at the far end of the room.

"This is the bedroom and that door leads to the bathing chamber," Legolas said before he turned around and faced Elessar.

He didn't know that the prince was just right behind him. And unfortunately, he was not tall enough to see him eye-to-eye. So instead, his gaze fell to the prince's full and sensual lips. He refused to look up and gaze at the Gondorian's gray eyes, so he just forced himself to look at his leather jerkin instead.

"This is a very nice room," Elessar observed.

"I'm glad that you approve of it. I myself see to the preparations of this room."

Few silent moments passed before it was broken.

"I'm rather tired. If you will excuse me, my prince," Elessar said as he bowed slightly and walked towards the bed.

Legolas seemed reluctant to make a hasty retreat, so he decided to say something to prolong his stay.

"Legolas," he said softly.

"What's that?" Elessar asked, as he looked over his shoulder to him, quite confused.

"My name is Legolas, not my prince,"

"I believe that's a sign of courtesy,"

"Well…yes. But I'm not comfortable with such title. However, thank you for that."

Legolas waited for an answer, but when Elessar did not respond, he thought of another comment to keep the conversation going.

"I would have expected a man of your rank to quite have a large party with him."

This time, Legolas had his answer.

"I hope you are not implying that I should fear for my safety? Or should I fear for my sanity?" Aragorn queried as he strolled away to familiarize himself with his bedroom.

"Oh, no," he assured him. "You are a very important guest to be physically at risk," he paused as he gazed at an unlit lamp on the night table. "And I think you are used to being alone."

A small smile graced Elessar's face, so small that Legolas could barely see it

"Indeed, I'm used to being alone. I was a ranger once, and the only companions I had in the wild were me, myself and I." Elessar replied, glancing at him briefly. "But, how could you perceive that?"

"I don't know. I just…perceived it," Legolas replied, looking down at the floor.

"I have a guess. Perhaps, it is because we share that trait?" Elessar proposed, turning to regard him, his expression still betraying almost nothing.

"Maybe,"

"So, Legolas, I assume that you are currently staying on one side of this castle, only you, alone?"

Legolas shook his head. "I live in a small clearing. I have my own talan there."

Elessar frowned in confusion. "You must be jesting. You are a prince, and you're telling me that you live outside the palace?"

Now it was Legolas' turn to grace his face with a small smile. "Yes. Don't get the wrong idea. I used to live here inside the palace. But I asked my father to allow me to live by myself, there in that isolated area within this realm. I am not comfortable being enclosed in this place.

"Isolated?"

"It's still within the realm but somewhat far from the city. No one goes there, my lord,"

"Elessar," he said. "I am Prince Elessar, not my lord,"

"Prince Elessar," Legolas conceded softly, nodding his head.

"Aragorn,"

Legolas stared at him a moment, befuddled.

"Aragorn," Elessar repeated. "That's my given name. You may use it, if you like."

"Aragorn," Legolas amended.

Aragorn took a deep breath and he straightened himself as he continued to regard Legolas. "Is there anything else you want to say to me?"

Legolas raised his head and looked at Aragorn in the eye. He was unsure of what to say, but he needed to say something –anything- just to defend himself about earlier.

"What happened earlier, at the hall, from the way you talk I deemed you already know. I…I just…" He took a deep breath. "If my father implies that I am in any way a part of this trading pact, I want you to know that I don't approve of it. I refuse to be a part of your negotiation."

"I don't know what to make of it,"

"What do you mean?"

"Why would you warn me about something like this? Don't you know that you are somehow giving away you father's plot?"

Legolas felt the growing frustration to this man as he replied to him. "Because, I want you to know that whatever my father is planning, I have nothing to do with it."

"I don't know. I think it's best if I don't make any assumptions right now." Aragorn replied, coming closer to him.

Legolas suddenly became aware that Aragorn was just an arm's reach. He just had to extend his arms and he could finally touch him. He relished the idea despite his annoyance with him.

"So you're saying that you do not approve of your father using you?" Aragorn inquired, to which Legolas nodded wordlessly.

"Is this a law of conduct by which you live by? Or is it that you don't approve of me?"

"It has nothing to do with you,"

Aragorn cocked his head as he raised an eyebrow. "Should I be pleased or be insulted with that response?"

"I'm not insulting nor flattering you," Legolas said firmly. "I just want to inculcate in that mind of yours that my duty is limited only to the honorable bounds of hospitality. And I will not do anything that is beyond that."

"I see," Aragorn murmured, pointing a steely gaze at him. "Let me take this straight to the point: you do not intend to stay the night with me?"

"Absolutely,"

"I would have sent you away anyway," he replied gravely. "I spent half of my life living with elves, under the very care of Lord Elrond himself. And so it was there that I was molded into an honorable man. I will not take my host's child into my bed –although I must confess I have never been so tempted to forget the bounds of courtesy," the last was said huskily.

Legolas swallowed hard, very much aware of Aragorn's gaze. His mind told him that Aragorn's words were nothing but just an empty flattery, but his heart told otherwise. Heat poured through his every limb as he listened to those words.

Aragorn gently took hold of Legolas' shoulders and drew him close, bending lower so that their faces were just mere inches apart.

"Have anyone told you that you are so beautiful, Legolas?"

The moment their lips touched, Legolas felt like he was melting like a wax candle, and yet soaring high like an eagle. He could have turned away from the kiss, but it was like stopping Anor from rising every morning –very impossible.

Aragorn brushed one of his hands through Legolas' golden hair as the other caressed his back. Legolas felt Aragorn's tongue pressing against his sealed lips, and he willingly parted them to grant his silent request. As Aragorn's tongue slid into his warm and waiting mouth, he leaned toward him to deepen and return his passionate kiss.

A low moan escaped Legolas. He rested his hands on Aragorn's broad chest as Aragorn embraced him, molding them together as one.

Then suddenly, Aragorn stopped and withdrew from the kiss.

Breathing heavily, Legolas slowly raised his eyes and looked at him questioningly; the sensation of the kiss lingered still on his lips

Aragorn drew out a ragged breath and pushed him away, quite surprised at the surge of desire flowing through him. Never in his entire life had he experienced something like this. To give in to his desire and lose his composure. Something must be wrong with him!

"What have you done with me?" Aragorn demanded.

"What?" Legolas asked in a whisper.

"Have you bewitched me? Have you put some kind of spell so that I will be tempted and be easily seduced by you?"

"I'm not seducing you!" Legolas answered incredulously.

Aragorn curled his fist tightly as he fought to control his temper.

"What's next Legolas? You're going to brainwash me, so that I will obey your every words like a dog? So that your father can finally have his way? Is that it?"

Legolas stared at him in disbelief. He couldn't believe his accusations, much more the change in his manner.

"For someone who claims innocent to his father's plan, you seemed to be a willing participant. Unfortunately for you, whatever plan you and your father have in mind will not succeed. I will not be seduced by you."

"Excuse me? In case you have forgotten, it is **you** who kissed **me**, and not the other way around!" He protested, dismayed by his suspicion.

"You are very clever and very cunning Legolas. I wonder if it is you I must be wary about."

"Look," he almost pleadingly said. "I just want you to believe in me. I have no hand in any of my father's scheming."

"Oh really?" Aragorn demanded, sending him a cold and skeptical gaze.

Legolas gritted his teeth almost painfully; anger was already brewing in his heart. "I tried to warn you," he said in a dangerously low voice. "And this is what you will do in exchange of my honesty? I should have known that you are a feeble-minded fool!" Legolas turned in his heel to leave.

But even before he could take two steps, Aragorn grabbed his arm to halt his progress and turned him around.

"Take back what you said," he demanded. "I'm not feeble-minded, nor I am a fool."

Aragorn was angry, and hurt and upset. He had been tricked by the person he desired the most and still, all he wanted to do is to carry him to his bed and pick up where they left off.

"Get your hands off me!" Legolas commanded scornfully.

Aragorn obeyed at once. "Take back what you said," he demanded again.

Legolas pressed his lips into thin line, his eyes were blazing with rage, and his tone was rather cold when he spoke up. "Since I am so tempting, **my lord**, I had best leave you to your rest. Sleep well."

And with that, he turned around and marched haughtily out the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Aragorn sat on his bed; his elbows were resting on his knees while his hands were pressed on either side of his head. His body was trembling, like a child scared of the dark. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to calm down himself.

The presence of Legolas in his room pushed him to act with his heart rather than with his head. Maybe this was just a part of his strategy, a trick to trap him.

Aragorn slowly eased himself down the bed and rested his right hand, palm up, on his forehead.

He needed to master himself again. He would only think of the trade agreement, he would ignore the fascinating and lovely and tempting son of Thranduil.

Legolas had deceived him once, and he would not let that happen again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Legolas found himself on his clearing. It was already night and Ithil's pale light illuminated the entire kingdom. The small brook at the middle reflected its luminescence.

He walked towards the edge of the brook and removed his boots. He sat down on the bank and dipped his feet on the cold water. The night air blew and whipped his hair about his face.

Though he was not affected by the cold, he still felt wrapping his arms about himself, raising his gaze to stare at the pale moon.

If he could just run away from here and be free –of his duties, of his father, of the criticism of others, of his sadness and loneliness, of his miserable life…of Aragorn…

Maybe he could just leave Mirkwood. Maybe he could just go to Rivendell; surely the lord there was benevolent enough to help him. Or to Lothlorien, where the heart of elvendom on earth could be found. Or maybe…he could just sail west, to Valinor, and be rid of his burdens. No, that's impossible. His brothers would surely bring him back even before he could get past the borders.

The events earlier suddenly played back in his mind.

He had been a fool to let himself be attracted to a handsome stranger and be humiliated while trying to do good. Well, the only consolation he could get was that Aragorn would surely be twice as wary…

He gasped and his hand flew to his lips. What if Aragorn told his father about what happened in his quarters? What if his father found out that he had warned Aragorn about him?

Ai Elbereth! His father would surely be furious. Who knows what his father would do?

What if he took away his talan? It took him sometime to persuade his father to let him live in solitude. What if his father disown him and cast him away with naught but his clothes? Legolas groaned and covered his face with his hands.

A cold wind blew and made him shiver. He suddenly sat up straight as a thought entered his mind.

He finally made his decision.

He would have to insure that Aragorn would keep his mouth shut about the events this eve. No matter how much more humiliating it would be to have to speak with Aragorn again, he simply could not risk the alternatives.

_Tbc…_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Please read and review….. ^-^


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: **I don't know why I keep on typing 'author's note' when it should be 'authoress' note.' Well, author is easier to type than authoress, haha, lame excuse. Anyway, thank you for the reviews in the last chapter. Um, here's my say:

**Yaoiandcoffeeaddict:** Thanks for the suggestion about how I can get more reviews. Actually I think there are some disadvantages in allowing anonymous reviews, but, let's see if advantages will weigh more than its opposite. Thanks!

**Aralas:** You know what?????? You're making me proud of myself!!! I love you!!! Haha. Anyway, thanks for informing about the 'hymn'. Hmm…why does English language needs to so tricky…? (Lame excuse, lame excuse ^_^V) Well, I guess I need to consult the dictionary more often. Thanks!

**WhiteEnsigma: **Yeah! Why, oh why Aragorn needs to be so damn accusing?! (Somebody whacks me from behind) Ouch! Don't worry, it's soon coming to an end, hehe. ^_^

**xXFreedom-ReaderXx: **Yeah! Aragorn is nothing but a clueless bastard who blames everything on Legolas! (Somebody whacks me two times from behind) Double ouch! I beg your pardon! Haha, worry not, it's also coming to an end soon. ^_^

**Glyth:** Um...I'm afraid that Legolas won't be doing some drastic action to make Aragorn shut up, anyway you'll just find out what will happen at the end of this chapter, so…go on…go on…read on… ^_^

**DazedAndAmused**: Waaii!!! You managed to review before I upload this chapter!!! Hooray!!! Haha, please bear with me ^-^; Thank you for the review and here's the next chapter!

Hope you will enjoy this one!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own LOTR

AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_AU_^_^V

Chapter Four

The early morning light found Aragorn wondering somewhere within the woodland realm. He decided to welcome the new day by taking a stroll within a cluster of trees near the palace. He was following a path of trees when the bubbling of water reached his ears.

He was still groggy for he did not have a good sleep last night. Even though he tried to clear his mind, his mind kept on reminding him of the kiss he and Legolas had shared. He could still feel Legolas' warm and soft lips, he could still see the softness in Legolas' eyes as he looked at him, and the tender and yearning expression on his face when they broke apart.

He paused for a moment and drew in a breath, inhaling the cool morning air. Thranduil was indeed a despicable villain for setting his son as a trap. Only a fool would continue to be a victim of his allure, and he was not a fool.

The sound of gurgling water grew louder, and he thought that maybe the cold water could help clear up his befuddled mind.

As soon as he came out of the trees and stepped into a clearing, he immediately halted.

His gaze fell on King Thranduil's youngest child, sitting beside the stream, clad in white shirt, dark green tunic, light green leggings and brown elven shoes, his pale blonde hair, glowing in the early morning sunlight like a halo, was held back in a ponytail. And the most interesting part of the picture was an infant cradled in his arms as he regarded the babe with downcast eyes.

Such sight brought a longing to Aragorn that it seemed the one ring of Sauron had suddenly lodged in his throat -he can't utter a word.

A feminine voice caught his attention and he averted his gaze to an elf maiden squatting a distance away from Legolas, washing a garment in the fast-moving stream. He studied the maiden for a while. She had a fine profile, long slender neck, dark and shiny hair, and shapely body. He came to conclude that she was indeed beautiful. She was admonishing a little boy, an elfling, playing in the water beside her.

Suddenly the elfling slipped on the rocky bank and fell into the stream. The maiden gave out a shriek as the swift current carried the elfling away from her.

Legolas scrambled to his feet. He wanted to jump into the water but the infant in his arms hindered his attempt.

Aragorn threw off his cloak and charged into the water. He concentrated on the elfling and estimated where the current would send him. He scanned the cold, rushing water, and when the elfling's head popped up, Aragorn quickly reached down and scooped the elfling out of the frigid stream. The elfling clung at Aragorn, chocking and spluttering. Aragorn muttered words of comfort in elvish as he walked carefully to the bank and set down the child.

Aragorn noticed that the elfling was shivering and his lips had turned blue, so he rubbed the little one's arms to warm him up as best as he could. Though elves were susceptible to cold, he doubt that one as young as this one could not be affected by the cold water. In a second, he found the child out of his grasp and into the arms of the elf maiden. He gathered up his cloak and offered it to the maiden.

"Wrap this around him," he instructed.

The elf maiden accepted the cloak and offered a grateful 'thank you' in return. He felt someone stood behind him, and when he turned around he saw Legolas, gently rocking the whimpering infant in his arms. Legolas looked up at him.

"Thank you," Legolas said softly, relief was evident in his voice.

"It was nothing," he replied. He held Legolas' gaze for a moment before he glanced away and started to walk past him.

"My lord," a sweet female voice said causing Aragorn to halt and reluctantly turn around. The elf maiden walked towards him but halted just up to where Legolas was standing, her right hand holding the elfling's left. She smiled sweetly as she brushed a stray lock of dark hair from her pretty face.

"Thank you for saving my son," she said as she dipped her head low. "I am Lorellin. This is Finduil, the babe is Beithris, my daughter, and the one holding her is Prince Legolas, the youngest prince of Mirkwood," she introduced, her eyes shone with expectation as she looked at him.

"I am already aware of who he is, though I'm glad to know you and your children, Lady Lorellin," he informed her, meeting her expecting gaze with his steely one. "I will leave you now to your task," he said abruptly, turning to go.

"Wait!" Legolas cried as soon as he turned around.

Aragorn stopped and glanced over his shoulder. He was not the only one taken aback by Legolas' sudden outcry, for Lorellin was looking at Legolas with a surprised expression.

"I...I wish to speak with you, Prince Elessar," Legolas stammered. But as he ran his gaze over him, he quickly added, "Perhaps after you change into dry clothes…"

Aragorn's lips twitched in a smirk. "I don't mind the wet; I've been through worst before. If you have something you wish to say to me, I would rather hear it now – when I have a witness."

Heat crept up Legolas face as he asked Lorellin to excuse him. With a somewhat reluctant look, Lorellin let go of Finduil and took Beithris from Legolas. Aragorn turned around and waited for Legolas to reach him. He just stood there like a statue, unmoving, watching the graceful movements of Legolas as he walked towards him.

"What is it?" He asked when Legolas finally reached him.

Legolas did not answer immediately; instead he led Aragorn a bit further where Lorellin was still in sight yet out of hearing.

"I have to speak to you of what happened last night," he said softly.

"What about it?" Aragorn asked in an equally low tone.

Legolas gulped. "Don't tell my father."

Aragorn raised one eyebrow quizzically, and flash of emotion shone in his eyes. "Then you admit that you stayed of your own volition?" Aragorn asked evenly. "You are quiet bold, aren't you, Legolas?" Then he looked past him to Lorellin. "What a pity she is there. If she were not, you could attempt to seduce me again."

Legolas' eyebrow twitched, feeling insulted by Aragorn's words. Instead of lashing out, he just forced himself not to say anything out of anger.

"Prince Elessar –"

"Aragorn. After that kiss, I think there's no need for formalities between us;"

"Legolas clenched his teeth and could feel his blood boil by Aragorn's nonchalant way of speaking. He drew himself up, drawing as much dignity as he could.

"I would appreciate it if you would not speak about last night to my father. I doubt he will like the idea of me warning you."

Aragorn's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Are you telling me that he will punish you for that?" He asked in a low yet firm and commanding voice.

"Aragorn, just –"

"How?"

"It's none of your concern." Legolas said firmly, though his eyes somehow pleaded to him.

Aragorn's expression softened a bit and a glimmer of genuine concern was in his face. "I would not allow it."

Legolas gazed at him, totally surprised. His eyebrows were curled up in confusion. "What?"

"I would not let him hurt you," Aragorn said with much conviction, making Legolas believe that he would truly protect him from his father's wrath.

"I do not need your protection; I only need your silence." Legolas retorted with the same conviction, raising his chin to testify his point. "Listen and listen well Aragorn, if you could not keep your mouth shut then I would be forced to stick an arrow in your throat to keep you from talking." Legolas hissed dangerously.

"Is that a threat, my prince?" Aragorn questioned him, somewhat amused by his words. "I wouldn't mind if you put something in my mouth to silence me, but I think there is a much better thing to use than an arrow, don't you think so?" He said and winked at Legolas.

Legolas looked at him increduously, but before legolas could retort an answer, a bellowing voice made them turn their heads to the path where Aragorn came through.

"Elessar!" King Thranduil greeted as he came charging out of the trees, a few elves trailed behind him. A small smile graced his lips and a knowing look was in his eyes. That is, until he saw Lorellin. A dark haired elf behind King Thranduil was also sending unpleased gazes to her.

"I didn't expect to see you here so early in the morning." King Thranduil said. "And with Legolas too."

"I was helping Lady Lorellin with her children," Legolas explained. "And it seems that Ara- Prince Elessar was familiarizing himself within the kingdom. It's a good thing though, for Finduil fell in the stream and Prince Elessar has saved him ere he drowned.

"Is that so?" King Thranduil cried. "Then you have my gratitude Elessar,"

"And mine," the dark-haired elf chided in. "I am Nolvar, husband of Lorellin," Nolvar said with less than good grace and in slightly belligerent tone. Jealousy burned deeply in his eyes. Aragorn acknowledged him with a bow and introduced himself.

"The morning promises a good weather. I was thinking of hunting in the forest. Why don't you join us ere we talk of negotiations, Elessar?" King Thranduil asked.

"That would be wonderful, my lord," Aragorn replied. "But I'm afraid I had not thought of bringing my hunting weapons," he added quickly.

"Ah, you don't have to worry about that. We will give you hunting weapons – whatever you prefer – as well as one of our finest horses," King Thranduil offered.

Aragorn laid a hand on his breast and bowed. "I am honored for your generosity."

Seeing no need for him to stay, Legolas turned around and started to walk towards Lorellin, planning to go back to the palace. He hoped that Aragorn would say nothing to his father about last night. He knew that he could do nothing but to trust Aragorn. He just prayed that Aragorn would not betray his trust.

He was glad that neither of the two would be in the palace the whole morning. He could finally have a peace of mind, even just for a while. After he had done all his duties, he planned to spend the rest of the day –

"Legolas!" His father bellowed.

He halted abruptly and turned to face his father. "I have not given you permission to go,"

Legolas scowled at his father, not pleased by his father's humiliation of him.

"By your leave, father," he said trying to be inscrutable as he dipped his head in a bow. "I still have many things to do."

"Go to the throne room and wait for me," his father ordered before turning his attention again to Aragorn.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Aragorn ignored Legolas as he left and instead kept his attention to King Thranduil and Nolvar.

That's when reality dawned on him: he was here to conclude a trade agreement and not to become a knight in shining armor for some elven prince. He must not stick his nose on other's family affair.

Maybe this was all a part of the plan. Maybe they were trying to make him feel sympathy for Legolas. Maybe the reason why Legolas had approached him was because he was trying to make amend for his failure last night.

He must not let his guard down against him, despite his protestations and reasons, despite his expression when he asked him to keep silent, and despite his reaction to his father's action. His brooding was interrupted when King Thranduil spoke.

"Well, a fine day for stag hunting it is, and no mistake," the king said. "Why don't you change in dry clothes, and we shall meet in my hall to break the fast."

Aragorn bowed in acknowledgement while King Thranduil strode away, followed by his elven warriors, including Nolvar, who gave Aragorn hostile glances before he disappeared through the trees.

Even though Aragorn had saved his son, it still did not change the fact that he was a man and not an elf. That alone could be cause for animosity. But he felt that there was another reason. Jealousy perhaps? He could sympathize with him in that aspect. The mere vision of Legolas in a passionate embrace sent a cascade of emotions pouring through him –jealousy, anger, hatred. But as far as he was concerned, he was not interested with the beauteous Lorellin as much as he was interested with Legolas.

Hold it! Why was he thinking like that? How many times must he put in his mind that the only thing he must be interested with was the trading pact, nothing more, nothing less? Valar, he must be going mad!

He strode towards the stream, then yanked off his tunic and threw it to the ground. He knelt on the bank and peered in to the water, staring eye to eye with his reflection. He slowly dipped his hand then scooped up a handful of water and let it slipped through his fingers as he lifted his hand up. The water was frigid. Maybe it could help him clear his mind. Scooping yet another handful with both hands, Aragorn splashed it in his face.

He kept on doing this for a while before he sat back on his haunches and stared unseeing across the stream, toward the trees on the other side. It was a good thing Boromir was not here, or else he would suffer greatly from hearing his accusations. Aragorn do not proclaim his feeling easily unlike him, that's why his childhood friend always accused him of having a heart of stone, and a hard southern region. According to Boromir, that's why his chosen partners still went with him.

And then one time, Boromir managed to coax one of his lovers to tell him how he was in bed. And thus, Boromir found out that he always withdrew. Boromir found it incredulous that he would rob himself of that great pleasure. Even if he managed to impregnate his partners, he could just make them royal concubines. But for Aragorn, love was a sacred thing, a person's heart, man or woman or elf, is a treasure, and a child was a gift, neither should be taken for granted.

Aragorn wiped his face with his hand, drew on his tunic and marched grimly back to his quarters. He vowed to keep his mind only on matters of business and not on other things.

_Tbc_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ooohhh….I doubt Aragorn can keep his vow… With new characters and upcoming characters….the plot continues to thicken. .. Haha, you know guys, I love it when Aragorn and Legolas banter with each other, what do you? Anyway, if you're waiting for them to admit their feelings for each other, worry not, it's coming near. Actually I plan to start it in the next chapter. Woohoo!!! Finally! So, I hope you like this one, though I must admit that I'm not that satisfied myself. Sigh, why do I always degrade myself? Anyway, please don't forget to review. Thanks!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Authoress' Note:** Finally! I finally used authoress instead of author, haha. Guys, I know that my story is frustrating (according to Aralas), but that's the way it is. I'm such an evil writer!!! Anyway, don't worry about it, this chapter will be the start for both Legolas and Aragorn, but I think it will be official in chapter seven. No, not in chapter six, I still have an evil plan, haha. Anyway, thank for the reviews and hope that you will keep on voicing out your opinion regarding this story. Enjoy!

AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU- ^_^ V

Chapter 5

Deafening silence rang within the hall where a battle of wits and grim determination was being held. Two figures were facing each other; one older and the other younger. The older one was sitting on his throne, face was serious and eyes were narrowed. The younger one was standing in front of the latter, eyebrows furrowed and eyes were widened with disbelief. The two just kept on staring at each other, not moving nor speaking, until…

"Don't look at me like I asked you to pay Sauron a visit and ask him how he fares!" King Thranduil growled.

"I'd rather do that!" Legolas retorted.

King Thranduil's eyes narrowed even more and spoke warningly. "Legolas, you do what I order you to do."

"I did what you asked of me last night, but I will not go back to Prince Elessar's room to bring those!" He muttered through clenched teeth, pointing at the pile of clothing atop of a chair. "Why don't you just ask a maidservant to do it?"

"Aren't you the one responsible for seeing to our guest?"

"But –"

"Legolas," Thranduil cut in, sounding dangerously clam. "Those are my gifts to him, and you have to show him how to don it properly."

"His way past his majority, surely he knows how to dress himself properly," he retorted matter-of-factly.

"Surely 'tis the first time he will have to use a spider silk and wrap it around his body," King Thranduil replied in a mocking matter-of-factly tone. "You know how tricky that silk is. What if he was not able to don it properly? We don't want him shamed."

"Then why don't you just give him other gift that is not of spider silk?"

His father leaned forward. "You choose then Legolas: do it willingly or be dragged by the soldiers in front of Elessar's chamber?

He blanched. Now that was not a good idea. He knew his father was serious. Could you imagine a prince being dragged by the soldiers? He sighed dejectedly and walked towards the chair, while silently reciting every curse in elvish and mentally throwing it to his father. He lifted the smooth garments and neatly folded it in his arms.

"Fine, I'll bring it to him."

King Thranduil regarded him with a triumphant and smug look

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Aragorn sat in a chair in front of the lit hearth in the sitting room as he briskly rubbed his legs with a piece of cloth. Valar! That water had been frigging cold! It's a good thing the hearth was already lit when he arrived in his room, making the place warm and comfortable.

As he continued rubbing his legs, he thought back to his days in Rivendell, when he was still training under Lord Glorfindel. The blonde elven lord did not missed even one opportunity to train him in the cold. It seemed that the elven lord had a different opinion about weather when it comes to his training. He was lenient during fine weather and too much hyper when there was a storm or blizzard. Lord Glorfindel insisted that this kind of training would enhance his endurance and could give him advantage in a battle whatever the weather might be.

While Aragorn appreciated the purpose of his training, he could not help thinking that Lord Glorfindel was trying to kill him slowly, thus making him hate his lessons of endurance.

And then there were the twin sons of Lord Elrond –Elladan and Elrohir- whom he considered as his true brothers. It had been their tradition every winter morning to dump him on the snow ere he could even wake up from his slumber. S, all in all, he had a very fruitful stay in Rivendell. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Aragorn,"

He paused at the sound of the familiar melodious voice. "Just a moment!" He called back, quickly putting on his breeches, boots and tunic. He wondered what brought Legolas outside his chamber. He quickly strode towards the door and opened it, though not wide enough to invite Legolas in, his right hand remained on the knob.

"Pardon me for interrupting you. I bring you gifts from my father." Legolas announced when Aragorn appeared from the room.

A sardonic smile crossed Aragorn's face. "Gifts?" He inquired, not moving from the door.

Legolas nodded briskly and held out the bundle. "Clothes," he said nonchalantly, "made of spider silk."

Only a blind man could not see that Legolas did not want to be in his chambers, nor anywhere near him, and he was not a blind man. It also became obvious to him that Legolas' relationship with his father was a troubled one. It seemed that the loathed each other. He was now starting to believe Legolas and his words, but the fact that Legolas was still a prince of Mirkwood kept his guard up.

"Thank you," he said, removing his hand on the knob, causing the door to open a bit further, and reached out for the 'gifts'

Legolas didn't give them to him, and after a while of contemplating what he should do, Legolas spoke up. "I am to help you wear them," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"I can handle dressing myself."

"I know you do," Legolas retorted, his eyebrows furrowed and clear annoyance was in his face. He mumbled words that Aragorn wasn't able to hear. "But my father ordered me to help you dress, since this clothed are made of spider silk. He's afraid that if you do not manage the silk properly, you'll be the laughing stock of the city.

"Laughing stock?" Aragorn inquired lightly.

Legolas cocked his head on the side. "Spider silk is a very smooth material that is hard to manage if you are not used to it. These clothes are made up of it, so it would be difficult to wear for someone like you who have not even touched such material before."

"You mean if I wear it myself it will be disheveled?"

"Yes," Legolas said. He raised his eyes and a mocking expression was in his face. "You'll look like a complete idiot. Though I look forward seeing you like that," the last was said in a whisper, nevertheless Aragorn still heard it.

"If the clothes are very smooth, is it not wise to wear them while on a hunt, especially while riding a horse?"

Legolas' expression became stoic, and Aragorn thought his lips twitched, but he couldn't be sure. All his life, he had been chastised by Boromir for being perplexing; and now, as he talked with Legolas, he was beginning to understand how frustrating it might be to converse with him.

"On the contrary, it's very comfortable to ride a horse while wearing these clothes, especially if you do not use saddle," Legolas looked away as he wrinkled his eyebrows, then his expression changed to that of discovery. He looked at Aragorn and flashed him a very big smile. "Oh, I know. Why don't you just tell my father that you are not comfortable wearing these garment? That way, you do not need to wear these and I won't have to assist you."

Now for some reason that response did not please Aragorn. "I do not wish to insult your father by refusing his gifts," he said, suddenly determined to wear the spider silk clothes. "And beside, I'm here to conclude a trade agreement regarding spider silk; therefore I fear I have no choice but to do as he asks.

"You fear?" Legolas replied skeptically. "I wouldn't think a man like you would be afraid of my father."

"But I am a man who takes my responsibilities very seriously."

Legolas looked unconvinced but said nothing.

"It would be very shameful for me if I do not wear those clothes properly. Will you not take pity on me and give me your assistance?"

Legolas' eyes narrowed slightly. "I do not think you're a man to be much pitied, either."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Still, I would need your assistance."

"I could tell you how to do it," Legolas proposed with flair of defiance. "That way, you would not need _**too much**_ assistance."

Aragorn regarded him steadily, as if contemplating if that was a good idea – or if there was a much better idea.

"Very well, you can just tell me," he conceded, opening the door wide to let Legolas in. Legolas gave him a cynical look before marching past him into the sitting room, then into the bedroom.

"I believe the shirt is no mystery, is it?" Aragorn asked when he entered the bedroom.

"No," Legolas replied as he put the clothes on top of the bed. "It's the tunic and sash that are difficult to handle. Unlike an ordinary tunic, it does not have buttons of lacings. You need to overlap one side on the other, then fasten it with the sash, which is hard to stay put in place."

After he arranged the clothes neatly on the bed, Legolas turned around to face Aragorn, and swallowed hard. Aragorn stood tall there, his tunic opened at the neck, revealing his muscular chest, and his powerful thighs were enclosed in tight-fitting breeches.

Legolas cleared his throat. "First, change your breeches," he said, almost stammering. He commanded himself to control his stupid anxiety.

Aragorn his boots and began to pull down his breeches. Legolas would have turned around to give Aragorn some privacy, which Legolas angrily thought the Gondorian didn't even asked, if not for the mocking look he thought he saw in the man's eyes. He's an elf, there's no need for him to be ashamed of nudity. Anyway, the man's tunic extended up to his mid-thigh, so, he could not see that…that…thing.

The breeches landed on the floor, and then Aragorn reached out his hand for the leggings, which Legolas abruptly passed to him.

"It's really smooth, and very comfortable to wear," Aragorn remarked when he finally put on the leggings. Then he started to peel off his tunic. Legolas willed himself not to run his gaze at Aragorn's muscular and exposed upper body as he held out the long-sleeved shirt.

The shirt fits perfectly on Aragorn, not too wide or too tight, though the sleeves were loosen as it ran down. It reached just up to the waist and the neck gaped neatly on his chest.

"Now, the tunic and the sash."

Aragorn examined first the sleeveless tunic before putting it on. True to Legolas' words, the tunic could only be closed by wrapping the sash around his waist. And that's where his dilemma began. The sash needed to be folded first since it is big. He closed the tunic in front of him, putting the left side over the right, and then tried to wrap the sash around his waist. It's could have been that easy, if only the material wasn't so smooth that it slipped out of place, and Aragorn have to do it all over again. He sighed exasperatedly and looked at Legolas.

"I knew it," Legolas declared stoically. "Do you have a belt? Just a small one."

"I think there is one in my closet."

Legolas strode towards the closet and opened its door. He busied himself searching for a suitable belt. With a surge of triumph, he found one small enough to hold the tunic and be hidden under the sash. He turned around and marched in front of Aragorn. He neatly crossed both sides of the tunic in front, left over right.

"Now you stand still. Hold this side while I fasten the belt," Legolas commanded.

"As you wish," Aragorn replied, doing what he is asked to do.

When Legolas finished buckling the belt, he bid Aragorn to release the tunic, and started to pull the tunic down to straighten any wrinkles.

"I remember something that my father said," Aragorn said as he watched Legolas worked on the sash.

"What is it?" Legolas asked as he tried to concentrate on folding the sash.

"Of all the silk that could be found here in Middle Earth, Mirkwood's spider silk is the best. The weaving of the silk is difficult and collecting the material needed is dangerous."

"That's why he wanted to have such material?" Legolas asked as he held the sash firmly.

"Yes," Aragorn responded as he waited for Legolas to wrap the sash around him.

Legolas had to get close to Aragorn again to put the sash around his waist over the belt. For him, this was the worst part, so he just forced himself to speak so that he wouldn't think about Aragorn's body that was so near him.

"What is your father like?" He asked.

"He is everything a good king should be, and more: a noble warrior, a fair and just king, an excellent husband, and the best of fathers."

Legolas asked Aragorn to hold one end of the fabric on his side as he began to gracefully move around him and wrapped the sash around his waist, overlapping the other end with the rest of the fabric.

"What about you Legolas? How would you describe _**your**_ father?" The Gondorian inquired.

"King of Mirkwood," Legolas answered shortly, tugging the sash sharply to tighten it.

"Have I offended you?"

"No! Do you have a pin to hold the sash?"

"I have a cloak pin in the drawer."

"Hold this while I get it."

Legolas neared the bedside table and opened the drawer. True enough, there was a star-shaped brooch that would just be perfect. He picked it up and regarded it.

"Is that not suitable?" Aragorn asked, stepping closer.

Legolas glanced at his questioning face, then back at the brooch. "Nay. I was only thinking how beautiful it is."

"It is the sign of the Dunedain, us being of that race," Aragorn explained solemnly.

"Oh," Legolas said, and with trembling fingers and a=biting his lips, he bent down to pin the sash in place.

When his fumbling fingers finally accomplished this task, Legolas stood up straight. But before he could move away, Aragorn put his hands on his arms and held him firmly yet gently.

"I believe you," Aragorn said softly, steadily regarding hum.

"I…I beg your pardon?" Legolas whispered, looking into his grave grey eyes.

"I believe you," Aragorn repeated. "I believe what you said last night, that you have nothing to do to any of your father's scheme. I believe that you are as honorable as I am, and that you are not trying to seduce me for some nefarious scheme. I was wrong to doubt and accuse you."

"I am glad you understand that I was not trying to trick nor seduce you." Legolas replied softly.

Aragorn's eyes darkened. "I believe you were not trying to tempt me for some dishonest purpose, yet you do so all the same."

"I…I tempt you?" Legolas asked incredulously.

"As for why you kissed me," Aragorn continued, his deep voice a husky whisper, "I can only hope it was because you wanted to."

"Why did _**you**_ kiss _**me**_?" Legolas countered faintly, his mouth suddenly dry and his legs started to tremble.

Aragorn's sensual lips curved up in an incredibly enticing smile.

"Because I wanted to."

_Tbc…_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 5 up! Please read and review. Oh, before I leave, hehe, I would like to say this first, I did not scan this chapter again for any errors because I am busy right now and I am in a hurry so I have no time to find errors, so if you see any mistakes, sorry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Authoress' note:** Okay! Here's the sixth chapter of my story. Boy, I'm so glad that you like it so far. I started with a mess, and I'm glad that somehow I'm improving. Thanks for the reviews and for your continuing support. Oh, before I forgot, I have a note at the end of this chapter, read it please. ^_^

**Thank to**: Aralas, bleach67, ShadowWolfDagger, Nyu2, xXFreedom-ReaderXx, Nya, White Ensigna, and to my other reviewers. Whew! I'm getting busy around here, so I don't have enough time to type a response to each of you like I used to do, sorry. Anyway, enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own LOTR. *pity*

AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU- ^_^V

Chapter six

Aragorn meant what he said with all his heart. He was convinced that Legolas was not complicit in any scheme of his father's. Legolas' words and manners proved true. But as he looked at the blonde elf, dismay started to fill his being, for he could clearly see doubt and anger appeared on his lovely face.

"Don't toy with me Aragorn, for I refuse to be one," Legolas charged, pulling away.

Before Legolas could flee, Aragorn quickly spun around and blocked the door.

"I'm not toying with you Legolas, I meant what I said, with all my heart," he said with uttermost sincerity.

"Liar!" Legolas hissed. "You already lied to me before, must you lie to me again Aragorn?"

"What?" Aragorn asked, dumbfounded. "I _**did**_ not and I do not lie to you," he said firmly, his hands gripped Legolas by the arms in their own accord.

"Let me go," Legolas muttered through clenched teeth as he tried to get out of Aragorn's grip, his eyes were fixed on the ground.

"Not until you tell me when and what lie I told you. AN accusation of deception is serious indeed, especially when unjustly made."

"Unjustly?!" Legolas cried, raising his passionate eyes to him. "Speak for yourself Aragorn."

"Legolas," Aragorn groaned. "Look, I swear I'm not toying with you. And why are you saying that I lied to you before?"

"Because you did!" Legolas yelled at him. "Last night, you told me I was beautiful!"

"You are!" Aragorn replied. "Don't you know that?" He asked, but the answer was clearly seen at Legolas' painful look.

The look of harsh accusation drained from Legolas' face, to be replaced by wonderment. Aragorn removed his grip from Legolas' arms and instead raised his hands to sup Legolas' face. He looked directly and unwaveringly at those enchanting azure pools as his thumb ever so gently caressed Legolas' smooth and flushed cheeks.

"You are the most beautiful being I've ever seen. Do not doubt that," Aragorn whispered solemnly.

Legolas closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Aragorn so near him. But suddenly he stiffened, and when he opened his eyes again his expressions were well hidden. "Now who is seducing? Do you think that someone as homely and unwanted as me will be an easy prey for you? That you will have something to make your time pass quickly while you negotiate with my father? Why not? After all, the king will not mind. Indeed, he is thrusting his own son at you!

Before Aragorn could protest or stop him, Legolas pushed past him and ran out of the chamber. Aragorn followed him outside, but he was already gone. Aragorn went back inside, cursing the elven ability that Legolas possessed.

He ran his hand through his hair and sat down on a chair, trying to think.

How was he going to convince Legolas of his sincerity? Should he even try?

He had never felt as desirous for anyone in his life as he had for Legolas moments ago, nor had he ever been so aroused as when Legolas had moved around him, adjusting his sash, his slender fingers working like magic.

Yes, he had taken elven lovers before, both male and female. But Arwen had been the longest. Their relationship was what he could call 'serious' compared to others. Indeed, he was even sure that he fell in love with Arwen for a time. But Legolas had awakened something within him that even the Evenstar had not.

He remembered his attempt to maintain his precarious self-control as Legolas helped him dress. He had tried to keep talking while inwardly reciting every elven words that he knew, both in Sindarin and in Quenya. That had not been a complete success, and still, Legolas believed he was unattractive. How wrong he was!

At that moment, he knew for sure that he did not want to be with Legolas for an hour, or a night, or even for the duration of his stay. He wanted to be with him for the rest of his life, to share to him all his joy and his dreams.

He sighed deeply and leaned forward on his seat, resting his forehead on his open palms. Was this love? Yes, he knew for sure that what he was feeling was definitely love. And it might be too sudden, but he already felt like asking Legolas to marry him. But the question was: Did Legolas felt the same? No doubt Legolas felt attracted to him, or he would not respond to his passion as he did. He must care for him, though not with the same fierce longing…not yet.

He forced his mind to coolly and reasonably think of the consequences of marrying Legolas. He always think like that, surely he could do so too in this matter.

If, when the time came for him to return home, he believed himself in love with Legolas and vice versa, making him the happiest, luckiest main in Arda –

If he still wanted to marry Legolas when the negotiation was concluded and he had to leave him with his father, who was oblivious to the fact that his son was a jewel among elves –

No, this was not working. If he still wanted Legolas' hand in marriage when he had to go back to Gondor, what obstacles might there be to a betrothal between them?

His father wanted an alliance with King Thranduil; King Thranduil wanted an alliance with King Arathorn; all he wanted was Legolas; and he hoped that Legolas wanted him too.

Again, he tried to concentrate.

A marriage between the two princes of both realms would be considered a far more serious alliance than the trading pact. Their union could lead to the unity of men and elves, bringing down the centuries old animosity between the two races. This could be the very first step in uniting the free peoples of Middle Earth.

Still, this was not a simple situation. Wood elves would not accept men that easily, and he was sure that some men would fell the same. And then there's the matter of them being both males. Elves were open to this kind of relationship. After all, there would be no problem for them, especially for the matter of children, for elven males had the ability to conceive a child if they wish. But few men knew of it. Indeed, those who only knew elves were aware of it –in short, nobles.

Therefore, he must first be very sure of his feelings and Legolas' before he made them known. He had to control first his incredible yearning for this elf, least he cause problem to all of them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A short time later, feeling comfortable with his new clothes, Aragorn strode towards the stable where King Thranduil and his warriors were preparing for the hunt. He saw the other elves busying themselves as King Thranduil and Nolvar talked with each other.

As he near the stable, an elf maiden intercepted him. Recognizing Lorellin, and mindful of her husband, he intended only to nod his head at her in greeting.

Instead of letting him through, she continued to stand in front of him and blocked his path.

"The clothes suit you, my lord," she said, a sly smile and a measuring look were on her face.

"Thank you," he answered politely. "Forgive me, but the king is –"

"I made it, you know. I weaved the silk and transformed them into those fine clothes."

"It is very fine indeed."

Her smile grew. "I'm the best in here."

"Indeed? That's good," he remarked, determined to get away from her before Nolvar h=got the wrong idea. "Now if you'll excuse me, the king is waiting for me."

Before Lorellin could respond to him, he hurried towards the king, acutely aware of Nolvar's malevolent look, which he just ignored.

"Ah, the clothes look well on you, Elessar! Isn't it wonderful?" The king declared as Aragorn joined him; a broad grin was on his face.

"It is indeed wonderful, my lord, thank you. The spider silk is really a wonder."

"Aye. Now come, I'll let you pick your own mount for the hunt."

When they entered the stable house, the elves inside went to the side to give them way. Aragorn traveled his gaze around, looking at the fine horse at the stables as they neighed and pawed at the ground. He spotted a very fine stallion in one of the stables. The beast was pure black and it pawed at the ground as if anxious for exercise.

"I will take that one, if I may," Aragorn said, nodding at the stallion.

King Thranduil's eyes widened a little as if in surprise, then he seemed to stifle a smile. "Oh, I think it would be wise if you choose another," the king suggested.

Aragorn didn't like the implication of that look. "Why? Is there something wrong with that horse?"

"Not at all," King Thranduil answered, and Aragorn noticed that some elves were having a secretive smile.

Did they believe he could not handle the horse? He, who grew up with the elves of Rivendell, under the very are of Lord Elrond Peredhel, trained by the mighty warrior Lord Glorfindel? There was no horse he could not tame.

"I will take the black one, then, unless you forbid it," he challenged.

"Oh, I would not forbid a guest from picking whatever horse he would," the king replied, an infuriating almost-grin on his handsome face. "Very well, take the black one. But I warn you, you must be very careful."

Aragorn's only answer was a little smirk of his own.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A chilly breeze blew, making the leaves dance and creating a melody that joined with the song of the brook. Their music filled the small clearing.

_**Thud!**_

A small leaf was embedded at the trunk of the tree from whence it came; an arrow struck it dead center.

_**Thud!**_

Another arrow-struck leaf joined it, and another, until ten arrow-struck leaves were embossed at the tree, all were struck dead center.

Legolas released a sigh as he lazily walked towards the tree to retrieve his arrows. Everyone knew, or rather, believed that the only thing he knew was palace duties, and that he had no knowledge or what-so-ever about weapons. But in reality, behind that delicate and weak-looking persona of his was a deadly archer; very efficient and effective with bow and arrows. He dared not expose that fact about him, for he already like his life –being ignored by everyone.

After he retrieved all his arrows, he went beside the brook and dropped on all fours at the bank, so that he could peer in the water and gaze at his reflection. He was not handsome look the other male elves in their realm, that's why he was considered ugly by his people. He was too feminine to look at. Maybe if he had been a maiden, everything would have been better. But then, Aragorn said he was beautiful. He didn't think of him being beautiful either. No one complimented him before, so when Aragorn did, his heart warmed.

An approaching presence alerted his senses and he was instantly on his feet. He quickly climbed the tree where his talan was and entered in it to hide his weapons. He schooled his feature first before he calmly went outside and gracefully dropped to the ground, his back facing the brook. When he looked up, he saw Lorellin appeared through the trees, Beithris was in her arms and Finduil was trailing behind her.

"Ah, I knew you'd be her," Lorellin remarked as she continued towards him.

"Lorellin, what brings you here?" He asked as he reached for Beithris who was being passed to him. The babe cooed in his arms, quite pleasant to be in his presence.

"Nothing important. I just thought you might want some company," Lorellin answered as she settled down in the shade of a tree. Legolas followed suit, while Finduil ran towards the brook and played there by himself. "Besides, I have nothing to occupy my time. The hunting party had already left. Pity Prince Elessar went with them," she added with a sly smile.

"I think it's a good thing though, this could help him get along with others," he commented as he gently pulled his hair out of Beithris' grasp.

Lorellin just shrugged. He liked Lorellin, though not her delight in other's attention, especially males. She's the only one who would talk to him anyway, but sometimes she degraded him. Not that he is affected anyway.

"Oh, do you know? Well, I doubt you do," she said, a broad smile was on her face as she turned to look at Legolas. "Your father let Prince Elessar take Thalion."

"That cannot be!" Legolas gasped, his eyes widened in obvious disbelief.

Thalion was never meant to be ridden. That horse was more of a fighting stallion than a mount. Thalion was captured over a year ago and it took two months for the beast to be tamed, of course, by none other than his father. Even his father did not ride that horse, he just kept him as a prized possession and, in his opinion, the two were getting along anyway. Though much calmer than before, it would only take very little provocation for Thalion to get wild, especially if not in the presence of the king.

"He took the black stallion?" he repeated incredulously.

"So I said," Lorellin replied. "I was there. I…I need to tell Nolvar something before he rode out."

By Lorellin's hesitation, Legolas already knew that it was not the real reason she's in the stable. He was not blind not to see that Lorellin wanted the attention of the handsome prince from Gondor. He just hoped that Aragorn was not also blind not to see this, nor Nolvar's jealous displeasure when he saw them by the stream this morning. Not that he mind though. Yes, he was not being jealous…you know…

"Only now I am convinced that men were such fools," Lorellin continued.

Legolas thought that Lorellin would undoubtedly consider that opinion vindicated if she had any inkling on what Aragorn said to him that day.

"Growing up with elves, he should have known better," Lorellin added.

"Didn't my father tried to stop him?"

"Oh, King Thranduil did suggest that it would be wise to take another mount."

Legolas could imagine how it e=was. Her father getting that smirk he knew too well on his face that would make any man of pride thought the offer a slap at his prowess as a rider, a man just like Aragorn. Nevertheless, he wondered why his father let Aragorn take that fierce beast for the hunt. Unless…he wanted the Gondorian to break his neck. Even if Aragorn managed to stay on the horses' back, he doubted he would be comfortable all the way.

"That's a mortal man for you, I daresay," Lorellin said coldly, glancing at Legolas. :"Ignorant and arrogant."

"Prince Elessar is not a _**mere**_ mortal man," Legolas countered.

"Whatever," Lorellin replied. Tossing her pretty head and watched as Finduil played along the brook.

The peacefulness of the morning was interrupted by the sound of an alarm that indicated approaching strangers. Lorellin and Legolas got to their feet, Finduil ran back to them and clutched his mother's dress tightly, Beithris began to fuss.

"I'll go to the gates and see what's happening, you gather all the women and children and go to the hidden cave until you are told it is safe," Legolas commanded as he handed Beithris to her.

There were tunnels there that led to different location outside the realm. But these were to be used when there's a sudden attack and there's no other choice but to flee –if anyone would ever find their hidden realm.

Legolas looked at Finduil and saw that the elfling was scared, his lips were quivering and tears filled his eyes. He quickly knelt before the child and gently patted his head.

"Don't worry, it might just be nothing. They are probably friends and the guards are just mistaken," he tried to assure the elfling. "Now, be a brave elf and help your mother with the other elflings, all right, Finduil?"

Finduil nodded at him gravely. He then stood up and looked at Lorellin. "Go now Lorellin, as soon as we are sure that they are not enemies, I will send someone for you."

Then she was gone. Legolas ran towards the gate to know who the strangers were. Not only their city was hides, but also the path that led there. It would take more than pure coincidence to find the path; so definitely, these strangers knew where to go. If that's the case, then they must know that the king and some of his greatest warriors were off hunting stag for sport. Anyway, even if they knew, it's not as if their kingdom was not well protected.

_Tbc…_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I have an announcement to make, hehe. After five months since graduating from college, I finally managed to find a work. Woohoo!!! Hurray for me!!! And my classroom training will start on the 14th of September. So it means that I will be very busy starting next week. I might, I repeat, I MIGHT not be able to update like before, which is weekly, if you noticed. But worry not. It's just an assumption, I'll still try to write down the drafts for the next chapters so that when the time has come for me to go for my OJT and the real job, I'll just type it in the computer and upload it weekly. I just hope I'll be able to do that, haha. I'll prevail!!! I know it! Well, good luck to me!

Thank you for reading, please review ^_^


	7. Chapter 7

**AUTHORESS NOTE: **Here I am again! Whew, I can't believe I made it in spite of my busy schedule, hehe. Well, Nya, I know that Aragorn is skilled with horses, but if he managed Thalion, where's the drama? GASP! I didn't say that! I didn't! Well, you're going to find it out anyway once you're done with this chapter, ^-^. Well, any way, thank you for the reviews my dear readers! Oh, and thank you AZNsexinezz for the rating, gosh I'm fluttered. Okay, I won't let it get into my head. I still have to eat much rice. I'm glad that you're like my story so far Toraus, I hope you'll like it until the end ^_^.

I love you people!!! MWUAH!!! Here's chapter seven, enjoy!

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own LOTR.

AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-^_^V

Chapter seven

In all his life, he had never experienced such a poor chase, Aragorn thought as he struggled yet again to bring his horse under control. The hunting party rode in the midst of a dark thicket. It made him felt restless for it's a perfect place for a sudden attack and ambush, and the fact that his stallion was a large skittish brute, clearly used to a strong hand just added to his apprehension. He had to devote all his attention to the horse, lest it shy or bolt.

He was starting to think that he should have picked a calmer mount, but the thought of King Thranduil thinking him not capable of mastering the black stallion made him thought otherwise.

The spider-silk breeches he was wearing did him no good either. It's less friction with the saddle combined with the constant nervous shifting of his mount would have made him slipped if not for his tight hold with the reigns and his ability to balance himself. He should not have used a saddle after all.

Since leaving the confines of the city, the group of hunters had not even sighted a rabbit, let alone a stag. The forest was so still and silent, except for the constant rustling of the leaves and their horses' footfalls. It seemed that the forest's wild life decided that today, they would just stay inn the comfort of their homes and away from the sight of anyone.

Worse, no one in the group, except for him, seemed to find this at all troubling. It seemed that they were expecting this and they were just out here for a stroll and not for a hunt.

Wood elves were known for their connection with nature. They could communicate with the forest and those living in it, and he was starting to think that they had planned this all along. Oh, how he loathed their wickedness!

Yet the elf he wanted was a wood elf, and the son of their king, nonetheless. How he wanted to take Legolas away from them, such a good soul must not be with the likes of them!

A sudden movement in his right caught his attention, and a rabbit darted out from the bush, surprising Aragorn's horse that whinnied and reared.

The action caught Aragorn unawares and sent him tumbling to the rocky ground.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Legolas hid on a tree outside the stone wall, watching the party of strangers as they came closer. His elven eyes confirmed that they were elves, but they were neither from Lothlorien nor Rivendell. Kin though may be they still must be cautious.

Some of Mirkwood's warriors were also hiding on the trees, while some were watching from a hidden passage post behind the stone wall –arrows notched and bows ready, just waiting for the moment to attack, if need be.

Legolas glanced at his right, at the road where his father and his warriors and their guest had gone. Hopefully they would return soon.

And he hoped Aragorn came back in one piece.

The party of unknown elves was now near. All of them were clad in black and they all wore a straight face. They seemed to radiate an aura of fear, especially the one on the lead. He was surely a noble, for he sat atop his mount regally, proudly and confidently. Exceptionally tall and broad shouldered, he had a long blonde hair gathered in a single braid that snaked on his left shoulder. His head was adorned by a silver circlet with intricate designs, and a face of a fierce looking wolf in gold thread was embroidered on his black tunic, its eyes were of red ruby. A sword hung on his waist, its sword-belt was silver embossed and the scabbard was indeed made of mithril with small precious gems adorning it. Tight, woolen breeches encased his muscular legs.

The party entered the line of trees they were hiding in. Legolas' hiding place was just in front of the stone wall, that's where the party stopped. Thankfully, there was nothing warlike in their movements, no weapons raised and no helmets on their long-haired heads.

Then the one in front looked up at the stone wall, before traveling his gaze on his surroundings, as if waiting for someone to come forward.

"Hail elves of the woodland realm!" His strong voice bellowed. "I'm here to see King Thranduil, your Elven King!"

"State who you are, stranger!" One of the elves yelled.

The blonde stranger smirked at that. "Why don't you be civilized and greet us the proper way?"

Legolas motioned for the elves to drop from the tree, but remain on their guard, before he himself dropped gracefully in front of the blonde elf.

Up close, he was even more imposing. His handsome face has flair of mystery due to his stoic expression, and his pale blue eyes glowed as he ran a measuring gaze over him.

"In the name of King Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, I bid thee welcome," Legolas said as he bowed low, his voice firm and void of any displeasure at the strangers perusal.

The latter got off his horse and stood tall in front of him, continuing to survey him with that measuring look. He would _**not**_ compare the look in this elf's eyes to the way Aragorn had regarded him on their first meeting.

"Where is King Thranduil?" The stranger decided in a loud, cold voice, which could freeze the very water of the Forest River.

"Mai I ask who wishes to know?" He replied nearly scornful.

The stranger cocked his head to one side. "I am Prince Limuel, son of King Cedric, King of the Saxons. I have been sent by my father to discuss some…personal matters…with the woodland king."

It was the first time he heard of the Saxons, but he believed him nonetheless. If their intention was to attack, they would not have been facing each other in the first place.

"Greetings, my lord," he said, lowering his head. "I am Legolas Greenleaf, youngest son of King Thranduil."

"You are his son?"

"Yes. Regretfully, we had no word of your impending visit, my lord," he continued, "Or I assure you, my father would have been here to welcome you himself."

"Where might he be?"

"He had business in the woods. I expect him to return any moment. In the meantime, allow me to offer the hospitality of his hall to you and your warriors."

After Legolas said it, he turned to face the stone wall and shouted some elvish words, which were answered from within. Moments later, the ground began to tremble as the stone wall opened. He whispered something to an elf near him who I turn darted out towards the city on his bidding. He turned his attention again to Limuel who had just mounted his horse again.

"The warriors will escort you towards the palace, and the servants will show you to your quarters," Legolas said.

Limuel bowed his head and smiled a little. "My thanks, Prince Legolas. If you will pardon me."

And with that, Limuel glanced over his shoulder and gave out an order. The wood elves led the way and they slowly made their way towards the city.

Legolas watched them from the side, when suddenly the sound of approaching horses caught his ears. It seemed that the hunting party had finally returned, and by the sound of it, they were approaching at a leisurely pace.

He turned around and hurried to intercept them. When he could finally see them, he started to run, for he could not see Aragorn with the group.

When he reached his father, he pulled his horse a halt.

"What are you doing here outside the wall?" King Thranduil asked, weaving slightly atop his mount. "And why are you in such a hurry?"

He ignored his father's question, and instead scanned the group. He saw the black stallion, which was being led by one of the elves. The beast pranced nervously, its eyes rolling on its head. "Where is Prince Elessar?"

"Whose company is that?" King Thranduil demanded, his sharp elven eyes finally caught sight of the entering party, and his expression suddenly became wary.

"It is commanded by an elven prince named Limuel. He claims to be the son of King Cedric, King of the Saxons."

His father's eyes narrowed. "Limuel? Son of Cedric? Does he have the insignia of a red-eyed wolf?"

"Yes," Legolas replied, nodding.

The king's face darkened. "Well, well, it had been a long time since I last met a Saxon, and of a royal blood at that."

"I never heard of them before. Who are they, father?"

"That's none of your concern. Our other guest should be."

"What has happened? Where is he?"

"Poor fellow fell off his horse and hurt his ankle. I don't think anything's broken."

If that's what his father thought, then it might be the truth.

"Perhaps you shouldn't have let him ride Thalion."

"He wanted it and wouldn't take another."

"Let us hope, then, his injury is not serious," he replied with a hint of anger and dismay.

"You had better make certain it is not. You will tend to him until he is well," his father ordered.

"That would not be –"

He hesitated when he saw his father's stern face. It was not wise of him to criticize his father in front of his warriors. "Where is Prince Elessar?" He repeated.

King Thranduil gestured behind him. "Back there with Nolvar."

The King then gave out an order to his warriors before he wheeled his horse and rode toward his realm. The only one remained of the company was Nolvar.

He hurried towards the latter and found Aragon lying on a makeshift bed made of two saplings and some branches. One end was lifted and tied to Nolvar's horse. The bottom trailed upon the ground. Aragorn lay there motionless, his face pale and his eyes shut.

"Prince Elessar?" He said, upset to see him in such a state.

Aragorn opened his grey eyes and looked at Legolas. When their eyes met, Legolas felt like the man could see into his very soul; as if he could read his innermost thoughts and fears, hopes and dreams; as if he knew all about his past and his present, and understood.

Aragorn blinked and Legolas forced himself to look away from those grave, grey eyes. "What happened?"

"I was thrown from my horse," he replied groggily.

Legolas inspected his forehead, temples and scalp, seeking any sign of a head injury.

Then Aragorn yawned. He did his best to stifle it but Legolas' sharp elven eyes caught it anyway.

Legolas eye's narrowed. "Are you in great pain?"

Aragorn glanced at Nolvar and Legolas thought that the Gondorian's lips twitched –but not in agony.

"I fear I have broken my leg," he said mournfully, and no doubt for the benefit of his obviously annoyed hunting companion.

Legolas stared hard at Aragorn for a moment. "I shall have to examine him," he decided, looking at Nolvar who looked as if he was sorry Aragorn wasn't dead. "Please take him to his chamber."

Nolvar nodded, and slowly turned his horse towards the city.

As he followed them, Legolas thought that their guest had certainly managed to provide himself with a more comfortable means of transport than his father's black stallion.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

King Thranduil rode forward until he reached the head of the company. He slowed his horse and halted directly in front of the Saxonian prince.

"Ah, greetings, King Thranduil. It's been a long time," Limuel greeted, touching his left breast before sweeping his hand out as he bowed his head.

"Greetings, Prince Limuel," King Thranduil replied as he also did the elven gesture. "It's really been so long. I…I didn't not expect your coming. You should have sent a word of your visit. I wouldn't leave my city had I known of your arrival," the king said, trying to be as cheerful as he could, but failing.

Limuel smirked. "If I did that, then it won't be a surprise anymore," Limuel replied innocently. "Indeed, my father bid me to surprise you."

"I'm indeed surprised. But come; let's talk inside my halls, where it is much comfortable for us all." King Thranduil said as he wheeled his horse and rose towards the palace with the prince on his side.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Legolas watched as Aragorn wobbled toward his bed with Nolvar's help. With an exhausted sigh, he sat heavily on his bed.

"I thank you for your help, Nolvar," Aragorn said.

Nolvar just gave him a nod before departing, not even acknowledging Legolas.

Aragorn fixed his steady gaze at Legolas. "I fear he does not like me."

"He doesn't love anybody," Legolas replied, flushing at the Gondorian's attentive stare.

"So, who are those visitors?"

"Visitors?" Legolas prevaricated.

"I hurt my foot, not my eyes. Those black clad elves, who are they?"

"Oh, I thought you're in a great pain to even notice," Legolas said mockingly. "Anyway, they are Saxons, led by Prince Limuel," continued, thinking that maybe Aragorn knew them.

"Saxons? Never heard of them before. Who are they?"

Legolas sighed, his hope unfounded. "I asked the same question earlier. 'Tis the first time I heard of them too."

Aragorn just nodded. Legolas regarded him, thinking that maybe he should go. He was sure now that Aragorn was not badly injured, and was just feigning a more serious injury.

But then he remembered his father's order: tend to him.

"If you do not stop starring at me, I'll pull your eyes out of their sockets," Legolas stated coolly. "Lie down so that I may examine you."

"You're such a brute," Aragorn retorted as he did what he was bidden to do.

"It is the right leg, is it not?" Legolas asked, ignoring Aragorn's remark.

"It isn't hurt very badly, just a sprain."

"Really?" Legolas said as swiftly pulled Aragorn's boot none too gently, ignoring Aragorn's grunt of protest. He had been so worried about him just to find out it was for nothing.

Legolas swiftly raised Aragorn's foot and pulled the breech upward sharply.

"You could be a little gentle, you know?" Aragorn remarked.

Suddenly Legolas let his foot drop on the end of the bed, where it banged against the wood.

"Ai, Elbereth! Aragorn cried, sitting up and nursing his now very sore ankle. "Be careful!"

"Oh, forgive me," Legolas murmured, completely without sincerity. "And I thought you were only feigning your injury, Prince Elessar. Obviously I was quite wrong."

"I _**did**_ hurt my ankle, and I saw no reason to refuse the offer of assistance."

Legolas raised one eyebrow and eyed him skeptically. "But you are not averse to some exaggeration, I take it."

Aragorn silently and sullenly reclined and submitted to Legolas as the elf poked and prodded his ankle and shin. He was so annoyed with Legolas' judgment of his behavior and subsequent rough treatment; he wouldn't have given him the satisfaction of making a sound if he stabbed him.

"Not that I blame you," Legolas suddenly spoke. "My father should have warned you about that horse."

"That it is actually a spawn of Morgoth?"

Legolas sighed and shook his head. "That horse is not safe to ride on. It's not easily controlled.

Aragorn rose on his elbows. "There's no horse that IO could not tame."

Legolas poked Aragorn's ankle hard, and Aragorn had to muffle a cry. "You know, your pride will be the death of you."

"I beg to disagree. I think it would be _**you**_ who will be the death of _**me**_." Aragorn countered.

Legolas just raised his eyebrows. Unfortunately I'm not a horse. Now I'm trying to examine you, and for that I require silence."

Aragorn groaned as he lay back down, seriously displeased. Yet even in his annoyance and frustration, he could not ignore the pleasant sensation of Legolas' touch, or the sight of him tending to him, his eyes were focused on his sore ankle.

He wanted to reach for Legolas' face and turn it towards him. He wanted to see him regard him one more with the concern that seemed to genuine.

For once, he wished Boromir was with him, so that he could ask his Casanova of a friend for advice on dealing with the lovely, impertinent Legolas Greenleaf Thranduilion.

Somehow, though, he thought Legolas would confound even him.

_Tbc_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Please read and review.


	8. Chapter 8

**AUTHORESS' NOTE:** Hey guys, just want to thank you for your reviews. ^^ For those who are wondering about Limuel, you just have to find out what really is his role in this story. Haha! I won't tell you anything! Just want to clarify some things. I will be using the Saxons as another group of elves, who lives in a kingdom called Nevareth (borrowed from the game Cabal, can't think of my own name for a kingdom). You'll find out more about them in the upcoming chapters, anyway. So stay tune! Haha. Well, here's the eighth chapter, albeit it's late. Hope you'll enjoy this one!

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own LOTR.

AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-^_^V

Chapter eight

Legolas moved back from the bed.

"I believe you and my father were correct, after all. It seems to be only a sprain. I thought as much when I saw you."

"You must be very skilled in the arts of healing if you could tell how critically one is hurt simply by looking," Aragorn observed.

"Tell me, how can someone be asleep when he is supposedly in great pain?"

Aragorn flushed hotly at Legolas' meaningful question. "I _**was**_ thrown," he muttered as he looked away.

There was a knock on the door before it moved open, and Lorellin entered the bed chamber carrying a silver tray with food and wine.

Aragorn was not pleased by this interruption, or by Lorellin, who sauntered across the room with the most flirtatious, sinuous movements he had ever see.

Just like her husband, Lorellin did not acknowledge Legolas, nor did Legolas take this as an insult.

"The king bids me to bring this here," Lorellin said coyly as she set down the tray on the bedside table, giving Aragorn a wide smile. "I hope you are not badly injured, my lord."

"I will not die," he replied evenly, not returning her smile.

"It's only a sprain ankle," Legolas said. "It's a good thing it didn't suffer further injury. It was king of Nolvar to assist him."

At the mention of her husband, Lorellin looked at Legolas sharply, before smiling back at Aragorn.

"I'm so very glad to hear that your injury is not serious, my lord," she simpered, giving Aragorn a thick look, which Aragorn did not like.

"We should leave our guest to rest," Legolas said, feeling Aragorn's discomfort.

"But didn't your father command you to tend to me until I am well?" Aragorn reminded him.

"That will not be necessary," Legolas answered firmly. "I'm sure that you'll be better on the morrow."

"I think we had best obey the king's order," Aragorn persisted. "We would not want him to be angry,"

"If you want, I can tend to you in his stead," Lorellin suggested.

"But King Thranduil assigned Legolas for that his task," Aragorn countered. "Besides, I doubt that someone as a lively as you would be able to sit here for long, doing nothing but watch me sleep all night."

"Doing nothing?" Lorellin replied, dumbfounded. "You…you would do nothing?"

"Why, of course," Aragorn replied coolly. "It has been an eventful day, and all I want is to lie here in my bed and sleep."

"Indeed," Legolas interjected. "I fear staying here will be a tedious, if not boring, chore. I would rather welcome Prince Limuel in the hall than sit here all night."

Aragorn frowned at this as Lorellin realized that their most recent visitor was also a notable one.

Legolas gasped dramatically, "Oh, I meant no offense to you, Prince Elessar."

"I never get to see the important people anymore," Lorellin muttered, pouting. "Not since I had a child."

"Alas for you," Aragorn sympathized solemnly.

"And them," Legolas added gravely.

"I have an idea!" Lorellin cried, brightening. "If I bring Finduil and Beithris here, Legolas, you can watch them and I may serve in the hall."

Legolas stared, aghast. Now that was a response he had not anticipated. "Oh, I don't think –"

"By all means, bring the children here," Aragorn interrupted calmly.

Before Legolas could make his protest, Lorellin had already dashed out of Aragorn's chamber, leaving him with the far from incapacitated, handsome, chivalrous Prince Elessar, who seemingly preferred him over her.

Aragorn rose from his bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Ai Elbereth," Aragorn muttered, staring at his ankle. "I think you broke my foot."

"Don't exaggerate. I only banged it a little," Legolas said, unregretful considering what Aragorn had just arranged.

Aragorn carefully sat back down. "I will have to remember that you're not someone to be trifled with."

"That you should do," Legolas replied, his eyebrows were frowned and his displeasure was clearly written on his face.

Aragorn sighed. "You need not worry. We won't be alone here anyway. The children will be here."

Legolas thought for a moment before he spoke. "You should have accepted Lorellin's offer. Indeed, anyone would be only too happy with that, especially hen she's in that mood."

"I have known whores with more modesty," Aragorn muttered scornfully, lying down and pillowing his head on his hands.

"Don't talk ill about Lorellin!" Legolas bellowed at Aragorn, who looked at him surprised. Realizing his outburst, Legolas somewhat calmed himself down. "She just loves attention. Ever since she was just an elfling, everyone has been giving her too much attention for she is a beauty. It has been inculcated in her mind that everyone should attend to her. But she's not a whore. You shouldn't talk about her like that. You don't even know her."

Aragorn rose again to sit on the edge of his bed, his eyes were downcast. Legolas was right; he shouldn't talk about her like that. No matter what Lorellin's actions were, she's still an elf, and elves were not like that. "I'm sorry," he apologized solemnly.

Instead of replying, Legolas turned around and headed for the door. Aragorn started to tense.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get some light. It's getting dark."

And with that, Legolas was gone to the sitting room as Aragorn relaxed. He thought that he made Legolas angry and that the elf would walk out. A few minutes later, Legolas came back with a lit lamp in hand. He put it atop the bedside table beside the tray, before walking towards the hearth and crouched.

"Why does everyone ignore you?" Aragorn asked all of the sudden.

"They don't," Legolas retorted as he busied himself in lighting the hearth.

"They do. Noldar did, Lorellin did," Aragorn observed. "Although you are a prince."

"It does not trouble me," Legolas said with a shrug of his shoulders.

As soon as the hearth was lit, he gracefully stood up and paced towards the balcony doors. He crossed his arms in front of his chest before leaning on the doorframe, his gaze surveying the shadow of the city under the indigo sky. "I would rather they ignore me and leave me alone."

Aragorn followed Legolas with his gaze, and then he sighed in understanding, for he sometimes felt that way too. He continued to regard the elf. His hair a cascade of sunlight with a shade of red due to the light from the flame, his skin glowed as the surrounding dimmed, his lips were full and a shade of pink, and his eyes...his eyes held sorrow that, for him, shouldn't be there.

Aragorn rose from his bed and limped his way towards Legolas.

"They are all fool," he said. Legolas turned around and watched as Aragorn limped towards him. When he finally reached him, he brought his hand to the elf's chin and tilted it so that he could look at Legolas in the eye. "They all are, if they do not see your merit, Legolas," he added softly. Sincerely. Tenderly.

Legolas' brow contacted, his gaze searching the Gondorian's face. "Do you mean that? Do you truly mean that?"

"Yes I do."

Aragorn could see that there was still doubt in Legolas' eyes. He wished he knew what he could do to finally convince the elf.

Then to his shock and dismay, he realized that tears started to form in the azure elven eyes.

"Legolas, what is it?"

Legolas blinked, and the tears trickled down his cheeks. He tried to stop it but it just continued to flow down from his eyes out of his will. He sniffled as he tried to speak. "I…I don't know…no one has ever…ever…"

At that moment, Finduil came tottering into the bed chamber. Legolas hastily wiped his face as he hurried toward the elfling

Despite his tears, he felt so happy, for Aragorn liked him –_**him**_, so often scorned and ignored. He felt like he could soar as high as the eagles could.

Legolas smiled as Finduil jumped in his arms and buried his face on his shoulders, stealing a glance at Aragorn.

"Oh, come now," the Gondorian said in a gentle voice from behind, "surely you're not afraid of me!"

Aragorn limped his way towards the two, and bent a little to be eye to eye with the elfling. "We are friends, you and me."

Finduil slowly raised his head and nodded gravely before reaching out his arms. Aragorn reached to him and pulled him out of Legolas' arms, returning the elfling's shy smile as he held him in his strong arms.

Legolas watched them, and for a moment, he saw a loving picture of father and son, the one thing he always wanted but never had.

Lorellin chose that moment to appear on the door, holding a wiggling Beithris against her shoulder. Her brows rose at the sight of her son in the Gondorian's arms.

"Greetings, Lorellin," Aragorn said before turning his attention back to Finduil. He carefully sat down on his bed with Finduil sitting on his lad.

"Here, take Beithris," Lorellin said briskly to Legolas. "I've fed her, but she won't settle," she glanced at the two figures sitting on the bed. "They seem to get along."

"Yes they do," Legolas agreed.

Lorellin's eyes narrowed slightly. "Perhaps I should stay and you should go to the hall."

"If you'd rather," Legolas replied. "I would like to know more about our guests."

Lorellin looked at Aragorn who paid her no heed, then handed Legolas the baby. "I will try to return as soon as I can."

She kissed Beithris and bid Finduil good night before leaving the chamber.

Legolas turned to see what Aragorn and Finduil were doing. The two are talking with each other. Finduil sat contentedly at Aragorn's lap, enthusiastically telling the other about himself, answering each and every question Aragorn asked.

Beithris began to cry. Aragorn and Finduil looked at him while he lightly and briskly patted the baby's back. "She just needs to burp, I'm sure."

Finduil looked up at Aragorn's face. "Do you have a wife and son back home?" The elfling inquired innocently. Aragorn was caught off guard by the question.

"Finduil!" Legolas exclaimed. "Do not ask our guest about his personal life!"

"It's okay," Aragorn said. "It's just fair for him to ask me for I'm doing the same." Then he looked at Finduil and ran his hands through the elfling's black hair. "No, I don't have a wife and a son back home."

Beithris continued to sob, and Legolas, determined to make the baby stop crying, added rocking to bouncing and patting. Aragorn gave him a questioning and sidelong glance.

"Have you never heard a baby cried before?" Legolas asked rather peevishly.

"Once or twice," Aragorn remarked with infuriating calm. He sat Finduil on the bed before rising, and Legolas noticed that he didn't seem to find his sore ankle as bothersome as before. "Let me hold her."

"Are you sure?" Legolas asked reluctantly.

"Legolas," Finduil called him. "Can you braid my hair?"

Legolas glanced at Finduil, then to Aragorn. There was gentleness in his expression that reassured him and a yearning in his eyes that compelled him.

"Will you let me hold her while you attend to Finduil?"

Legolas carefully handed him Beithris, ready to take her back at first sign of a problem.

His weight on his left leg, Aragorn laid the baby against his muscular chest and proceeded to rub her back with a relaxed circular motion.

Legolas positioned himself behind Finduil, and began to soothe out any tangled hair with his fingers. Then he began to neatly braid the elfling's hair, his fingers working like magic. As he tied the end of the braid, Beithris did one of the loudest burps Legolas had ever heard from the babe. The infant grew quiet, laying her downy head on the prince's chest as if it belonged there.

Aragorn looked at Legolas with a frustratingly inscrutable expression. "You were jostling her too much, I fear."

"Oh," Legolas said, and then he got up and approached him. "I'll take her now."

He put his hands around Beithris to remove her, all the while trying not to think about his fingers brushing Aragorn's chest.

The baby uttered a wail of protest. Legolas looked up into Aragorn's gray eyes and, instead of dismay; he saw a twinkle of pleasure.

"I gather she wants to stay where she is," Aragorn observed. He started to rub her back once more and Beithris settled down immediately.

"Oh," Legolas mumbled as he watched his long fingers move.

"Tell me a story, Price Elessar," Finduil suddenly demanded.

"Finduil!" Legolas warned, going toward him. "This man is a guest here!"

"A guest who will be honored to tell you a story," the Gondorian answered.

"Perhaps you should eat first before you do so," Legolas offered, gesturing at the food atop the table and ignoring Finduil's restless tug at his tunic.

"I am quiet fine," Aragorn replied, glancing at the elfling. "My audience is getting anxious."

Legolas just nodded and sat beside Finduil.

"Do you want me to tell you about the fall of Sauron?" Aragorn asked, and Finduil nodded eagerly. "Great! Now why don't you lie down and close your eyes so you can imagine it all as I speak?"

Legolas was very impressed with his suggestion, for it was a good strategy to lure the elfling to sleep. Finduil did not protest, and instead, he went further to the bed and laid his head on the pillow. "I'm ready," he prompted.

Aragorn, his expression very serious indeed, nodded. "It began with the forging of the great rings," he began in his fine, deep voice, as he held Beithris in his arms. "Three were given to the elves: immortal, wisest and fairest of all being…"

Legolas listened to Aragorn as he marvelously tell the creation of the great rings; how the dark lord deceived the ring bearers by creating another ring –the one ring to rule them all; how one by one, the free lands of Middle Earth fell into darkness; and how the men and elves united in order to fight for the freedom of Middle Earth.

When the story drew to its ending, Legolas wished that Aragorn could begin it all over again. So pleased was he that he lifted his hands to clap –only to have Aragorn quickly put his finger o his lips.

"You'll wake him," Aragorn admonished in a whisper.

Legolas turned to see that Finduil had fallen asleep. He then looked at Beithris. "She's fast asleep too," he remarked.

Silence engulfed the room. Neither of the two spoke as they regarded each other, until; Legolas broke the ice.

"Lorellin may be some time yet," he noted anxiously, rising. "Your arms must be tired."

"A little," Aragron admitted, limping toward the bed. "I'll just lay her here on his brother's side, so that she cannot roll out."

He did so, and then covered both slumbering elflings with a blanket.

"I'm sorry we have commandeered your chamber like this. I could take the children to Lorellin's talan and wait for her there." He offered.

Aragron regarded him steadily, with a spark of something that was not merriment smoldering in his solemn eyes.

"But that would be disobeying your father's orders," he said in his enticing voice. "You are to tend to me until I am well."

_tbc..._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Please read and review!!!


	9. Chapter 9

**AUTHORESS' NOTE:** Woohoo!!! Chapter nine!!! It's a good thing I had this chapter head on, but unfortunately, this is my last back up chapter and I'm still working on my tenth. Having a job is really working me up, but don't worry fellows, I'll try to finish the next chapter on schedule ^_^. Oh, do you know a maze? Yeah, you don't know where each turn will lead you. That's just like me! Oh you'll never know where I will lead this story, haha (though I think it's already quiet obvious ^_^V) Well. thank you for all of your reviews, I can't type responses for each and everyone of you coz' I still need to review for my validation tomorrow. Well, wish me luck! I love you guys, thank you and enjoy!!!

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own LOTR

Chapter nine

Legolas swallowed hard.

"I…I think…we should go," he stammered, trying to collect his thoughts which seemed scattered.

"Why disobey your father? Do you not feel safe here?" Aragorn asked.

"Of course I do," he retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm glad to hear it." Aragorn smiled a little. "I would enjoy the company."

Legolas just nodded and stayed sitting on the bed, not meeting Aragorn's gaze. A few moments passed and neither of the two still spoke up, until…

"I see you're a man of skills," Legolas suddenly remarked, daring to look up at Aragorn.

Aragorn smiled very slowly, and it seemed to envelope Legolas in warmth of companionship and intimacy. "You think I possess some skills?"

"Well, of course," Legolas said as evenly as he could. "Your father won't send you if you don't have some skill at negotiating. And then you have a lovely voice for singing, and you are a wonderful story teller. Indeed, if you could grow pointy ears and lack the…um…extra hair…you could be mistaken for an elf."

"You had best take care, Legolas, or I could grow vain," Aragorn replied softly.

Legolas made a wry smile. "Or I could, if you truly prefer my company to Lorellin's"

"Legolas, there is something I want to know, If I could," Aragorn said quietly, his gaze seeming to grow more intense. "Why are you so little respected here?"

Because of the man's kindness toward him and the genuine concern in his expression, Legolas answered him.

"My father does not like me," he confessed. "He never has, from the day I was born. I…I'm different from everyone."

Aragorn continued to regard him steadily, as if he somehow knew there must be more.

"My mother died of childbirth. She died giving birth to me," he continued as he stared at his entwined fingers on his lap.

Aragorn limped toward Legolas and knelt before him, gently cupping the elf's face so that he had to look into his solemn eyes. "But it is not your fault. You never wished for that to happen."

"I know," Legolas said in a whisper as tortured as his eyes. "Yet, if not for me, mother would have still been alive."

And then Aragorn saw something that completely tore at his heart: self-loathing.

"If only I had not been born…or if only I am not different."

Aragorn jumped to his feet and pulled Legolas' trembling body into his arms, embracing him, trying as best as he could to comfort the blonde.

"Legolas," Aragorn whispered fervently. "Don't say that. Don't say something like that."

As Legolas quietly sobbed and clung to him, Aragorn silently raged at King Thranduil, who was so harsh to Legolas and made him blame himself for something he had no control with. He also raged at everyone who belittled Legolas, making him believe that he is of no value. Why, Legolas was worth a hundred times than them!

Legolas gently extricated himself form Aragorn's embrace, wiping his damp face on his sleeve.

"I am sorry," Legolas said, forcing his self to smile. "I should not be weak or foolish."

"I do not think you cry often."

Legolas took a deep breath and shook his head. "No, I don't"

"You are an admirable person, Legolas."

"Am I? Not tonight, I fear."

Legolas turned to the direction of the balcony doors and survey the moonlight-illuminated surroundings outside. "It's already late; you should have been sleeping right now."

Legolas turned back to him and made a little smile, and Aragorn knew it was for him alone.

Aragorn could control his desire no longer. He took the ethereal being gently by his shoulders, and slowly bent to kiss him –

"I'm thirsty!"

Legolas and Aragorn sprang apart as if Finduil's announcement had been a battle cry.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Legolas didn't dare a glance at Aragorn as he flushed with guilty embarrassment to think what Finduil might have witnessed in another few moments. Not that he was ashamed of that, but explanations might have been necessary, and he could hardly offer the elfling a truthful one.

He hurried toward the night table. "I'll get you a glass of water."

"No!" Finduil grumbled, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "I want _**him**_ to get it!"

"But he is our guest and –"

"Land I will be happy to oblige," Aragorn said behind him, and Legolas heard the subtle undertone of frustration. No doubt he heard it, for he felt the same.

"You must speak softly, Finduil," Legolas admonished as Aragorn filled the goblet with water from a pitcher. "We don't want to wake Beithris."

As he finished his words, the baby began to cry. Legolas went to the other side of the bed and gently lifted the infant and held her in his arms, rocking slowly, while Aragron limped to the bed and offered Finduil the water.

The little boy gulped his drink as if he had been running with the Nazguls behind him. Legolas noted with relief that Beithris had fallen back to sleep. When Finduil was finished, he thrust the goblet at Aragron.

"What will you say?" Legolas asked.

"Thank you. Now tell me another story!"

"Finduil!" Legolas hissed.

Aragron chuckled. "I will, if you lie down and keep still so that your sister can sleep."

"No! I'm not sleepy!" Finduil protested grumpily.

"Finduil, the hour is late and –"

"And I'm not sleepy! He declared rather loudly, startling Beithris into wakefulness.

"How about you sit on my knee?" Aragron offered, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, patting his lap. "I will tell you a story if you sit here quietly."

Finduil considered a moment.

"All right," he conceded. He crawled towards Aragorn and sat onto his lap contentedly, much like earlier.

"Tell me a story with dragon!" Finduil said enthusiastically.

"All right. It's a dragon story then."

Legolas had to stifle a smile as he regarded the two. The baby was once again asleep, so he carefully laid Beithris on the bed, only to see her open her eyes. He picked up the baby again and rocked some more.

Finduil poked Aragorn in the chest. "Start!"

Once again Beithris slumbered, so again Legolas laid her on the bed –and again the baby's eyes opened.

"Why don't you lie with her? That might help to settle her," Aragorn suggested. "And she'll be much comfortable that way." His expression changed, and his voice dropped into a low, husky timbre. "I know OI would be, if I were in her place."

Legolas flushed hotly and lay down on the bed –_**Aragorn's**_ bed, although he tried not to think about that –and do as Aragron suggested.

Finduil tugged on Aragorn's collar. "Tell me my story!"

As Aragron obeyed, Legolas realized that the man as right. Beithris was definitely comfortable for she soon fell asleep.

Aragorn's soothing voice filled the cozy, dimly lit chamber as he told a tale of an adventurer from the shire. Accompanied by thirteen wanderers, they set on a journey to hunt treasures. Along the way, they met unexpected friends and faced many foes, such as orcs, trolls, spiders, and above all, a dragon.

Legolas yawned and his eyes became unfocused.

The last he saw before consciousness left him was Finduil nestled against Aragorn's broad chest, and his last thought was that Aragron would make a wonderful father.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The hour grew late. Some of the wood elves had already gone to their talans, and some of the saxonian warriors to their respective quarters. But some, like Nolvar and his friends, were still on the hall, enjoying the last bit of merry making, drinking wine and nibbling on some food, which Lorellin and a few other servants waited to clear away.

Nolvar glanced often at his wife, who concentrated in serving the king and his important guest.

"I've been wondering for sometime now, my liege. Where are your sons?" Limuel suddenly asked. "I haven't seen them at all –except your youngest who welcomed me earlier. As the sons of the king, shouldn't they be here?"

"My other sons are on border patrol, they couldn't be here for a while. Right now my youngest is tending on Prince Elessar. He's also a guest here from Gondor. He fell from his horse earlier and hurt his ankle. I apologize if they were not here to welcome you."

Limuel's face darkened and gave King Thranduil a side long glance. "_**He**_ tends to your other guest?"

King Thranduil's expression became wary, and the usual not easily intimidated ruler of Mirkwood became uncomfortable under the Saxonian's gaze. "Legolas is skilled in such matter, if you must know," the king uttered.

"Still, shouldn't the Gondorian guest be tended by a healer instead?" Limuel continued to inquire.

"When Elessar came here, I already gave my word that Legolas would see to everything he needs during his stay here," King Thranduil answered.

"He's the Crowned Prince of Gondor, right? Why is that _**human**_ here anyway?"

"To conclude a trade agreement. It seems that King Arathorn would like to procure our famous spider silk."

"And for how long will he be here?"

"That I do not know. We still haven't started talking about business."

Then King Thranduil narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at Limuel suspiciously. "Why do you seem so concerned about this matter?"

Limuel's expression changed, and he offered the king a big smile. "Nothing. I'm just curious." Then he nodded at Lorellin's direction. "She's a very beautiful maiden," Limuel remarked significantly.

King Thranduil looked at Lorellin. She's been an attention seeker ever since she had learned what attention was. The king had hoped that her marriage would somehow change her.

"Lorellin is also a married maiden," King Thranduil said, having a guess on what Limuel wanted.

Limuel sighed dramatically as if in dismay. "Oh, pity." Then he looked at the king. "King Thranduil, I thank you for the fine meal," he said rising. "I think I'll retire now to my appointed chamber."

"I'll have a servant accompany you to your room," King Thranduil said, motioning for a servant to come over.

But before he could call the attention of the servant, the Saxonian Prince raised his hand. "If you would rather, my liege, if it's not so much to ask of you, will you walk me instead to my chamber?"

King Thranduil had no desire to agree, But Limuel was an important guest –very important. "Of course," he said as he also rose to his feet.

The two elves sauntered out of the hall, neither one of them acknowledging Lorellin as they went out into the dimly lit hallway.

The two aid nothing as they turned from corner to corner, King Thranduil leading the way. They turned on a corner third from the one leading to Aragron's chamber. They stopped at a door with intricated leaf design. King Thranduil opened the door and entered the chamber. Limuel followed him into the room. The light from the hearth illuminated the well furnished room.

They sat on the chairs in front of the hearth, facing each other with a small table in between tehm.

"I wanted to speak to you in private, King Thraduil. That's why I asked you to accompany me instead," the prince announced.

"And what is it that you like to speak with me, Prince Limuel?" King Thranduil asked.

"Century ago, my father gave you his help . He aided you when you are in a very dire situation, needing anyone to keep your people safe. My father was there for you when nobody was. The Saxons were there to save you Woodelves when the Rivendell elves nor the Galadrims were not."

"I already know what had come to pass between our people, Limuel. I know that I, or rather we, owe you our lives."

"Exactly, you owe us your lives, because it is our forces who defeated your enemies that should have annihilated Mirkwood then."

"Why don't you stop beating around the bush, Limuel, and tell me what is it that you want to speak with me." King Thranduil demanded impatiently, though he already have an inkling on what it is.

"Your exact words to my father were 'I owe you our lives, Cedric, and for that I will forever be grateful and indebted to you. Ask me of anything and I'll give it to you,'" Limuel said, looking directly and unwaveringly at King Thranduil in the eye. Then his lips curled up in a smile, somewhat wicked in King Thranduil's opinion. "My father has sent me to finally claim that 'anything'"

King Tharnduil's eye widened and he paled. He already expected that declaration, but hearing it directly from the Saxonian Prince's mouth still shocked him.

"And…what is it that you will ask of me?" King Tharnduil asked, his mouth suddenly became dry. In his mind, he was already praying to Eru and to the Valars that Limuel would not ask for his most precious treasure.

Limuel let out a merry laugh before he spoke up. "Say, my king, wouldn't it be a good way to establish an alliance with the Saxons if I marry your son? –Your _**youngest**_ son?"

_tbc..._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Please read and review!!!


	10. Chapter 10

**AUTHORESS' NOTE: **Whew! After climbing seven mountains and swimming seven seas, finally, I managed to upload my tenth chapter. God's wound, it's getting harder and harder to update every week. So, just as I promised, here's my response to each ad everyone of you! ^_^

**Aralas:** I have good news to you! This is it! The chapter you've been waiting for!!!! Hurray!!!

**WhiteEnsigma: **Oh, I think Thranduil has nothing to worry about offending Gondor. Why? Well, Gondor was just proposing for a trade pact, right? But…I wonder what is King Thranduil's treasure really is… hmmm…(laugh eveilly)

**Nya:** Yeah, Legolas suddenly became popular, haha. Oh, this is the chapter where in Legolas and Aragorn's relationship finally became official. Yahoo yahoo!!!

**Toraus: **Oh, don't worry, Legolas won't be alone in this predicament, haha, I think…

**Alhena:** Oh, I can't tell you yet what King Thranduil's treasure is.

**RankEgg:** Okay, okay don't throw your toys, here's the next chapter.. ^_^

**sUp3rhiro:** I'm glad you like it.

**YaoiandCoffeeaddict: **Are you sure? (Raised eyebrow alternately) How many percent are you sure about that??? (the treasure)

**rry: **Well, I can't think of anything to write about Legolas being auctioned away. Haha, I only set a week for myself to upload every chapter, sorry.

Well, well, well. It seems that everyone is being hooked up with King Thranduil's treasure. Unfortunately, nothing will be said about it…yet…in this chapter at least. But don't worry, you'll gonna find more about it sooner or later. Just enjoy this chapter for the moment, okay??? ^_^

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own LOTR

AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-AU-^_^V

Chapter Ten

King Thranduil stared at the Saxonian Prince, dumbfounded.

"Father said that I can have his share of the deal. I could ask anything I want in his stead. So, I'm asking for your son, King Thranduil. I want to wed Legolas," Limuel announced.

For one thousand years, ever since they last met, King Thranduil had never seen again nor heard anything about King Cedric of the Saxons. And now, he had made his presence felt again through his son. Since the Saxonian king didn't demand for anything that time, King Thranduil had hoped that he would not do so anymore. But there's no hurt in being sure. So he gathered as much wealth as he could, just in case the king of the Saxons demands a large amount of treasure.

Then, three hundred years later, her wife bore him a son, a son whose beauty surpassed even that of the Evenstar. And ever since then, Mirkwood had never been the same anymore.

"What say you, my liege? A marriage into the royal family of the most powerful elven race is something you couldn't compare with anything, right?"

Limuel's words were true, and he should be pleased with that arrangement. But King Thranduil could not find any enthusiasm for that matter. He knew the Saxons all too well.

"Naturally, I'm flattered that the Crowned Prince of Nevareth wishes to join his house to my own," King Thranduil replied modestly when he finally gathered his wits. "But surely we are unworthy."

A broad grin appeared on Limuel's lips. "Of course you are worthy. And your youngest son is beautiful. He will be a fine consort for me."

King Thranduil stared at Limuel's smiling face, as if assessing what he should say. He had hoped that the coming of Prince Elessar to Mirkwood would be the answer to his predicament regarding his youngest son, but it seemed that it was not so. If he refused Limuel, who knew, with his warriors in the realm, what he will do. A single Saxon could kill fifty enemies alone, and with their large number, Mirkwood would definitely fall if they attacked.

"Very well," he replied slowly, "I will f=give you my son in marriage."

"Excellent!" Limuel exclaimed. "Now all we need to do is to seal the deal!" Limuel then pulled out a jewel ornamented dagger and placed the blade against his open palm.

King Thranduil stared at Limuel's had, then said. "You would clasp hands tonight?"

Limuel gave the king a suspicious look. "Why not? We already have agreed to the marriage. What prevents you making the betrothal binding?"

"My word alone should be enough."

"Blood is more concrete than words, King Thranduil. It's a Saxon thing. You did the same with my father when you made your promise."

King Thranduil let out a heavy breath before he himself pulled out an elegant looking dagger and mimicked Limuel's action. Then, with one synchronized motion, they cut a wound open on their palms and clasped their hands together. Their bloods mingled together, and sealed their deal forever.

When they released each other's hand and wrapped it with clean cloth, King Thranduil got to his feet. "Prince Limuel, I think that this matter, if made known suddenly, would create some speculations and ruckus, and it might affect with Prince Elessar. I think it would be better, then, if this decision remained between tae two of us until Prince Elessar and I come to terms."

"Very well," Limuel replied with a nod.

"I see you are a wise elf, Limuel, as expected." King Thranduil cleared his throat and he looked at the hearth as he clasped his hands behind. "It might be better not to tell Legolas about this betrothal for the present, either."

"Why not?" The Saxonian prince demanded. "Will he be against it?"

"Of course he won't!" King Thranduil replied quickly. "But Legolas might be so delighted and flattered; he will never be able to keep it a secret."

Limuel relaxed. "Of course, as you wish."

King Thranduil made his way to the door, then paused and turned to face Limuel, the light from the hearth and shadows making his face eerie.

"I hardly expected such honors when I saw your company earlier," he said. He inclined his head slightly. "I leave you now to your rest, son-in-law."

Limuel bowed slightly before looking at King Thranduil in the eye with a calm smile gracing his face. "Sleep well, father."

And with that the king disappeared to the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Aragorn sighed softly and shifted his shoulders, trying to find a more comfortable position for his back against the headboard of his bed. When that too did not prove possible, he resigned himself to remaining as still as he could while Finduil continued to slumber, his small body on Aragorn's lap and his head against Aragorn's chest.

The light from the hearth was already out, and the light from the lamp was coming low, too. That could wait; he was busy at the moment. He was busy watching Legolas sleep; the baby snuggled against him as if Beithris belonged there.

A surge of longing rose in his breast, like the lure of the sea that made the elves long to sail west. How much he wanted a child of his own! It would be the greatest gift his mate could ever give him, a source of boundless joy and love.

He had been in many relationships before, but never did he feel the impulse of loving someone unabashedly, never did he manage to express his love fully.

Now, as he regarded Legolas, he wondered if it had only been that he had never found the one who was capable of rousing the desire to express his feelings, or to make him love with his whole heart.

A thought came to his mind: if Legolas could be his mate and bear his children, he would surely know pure happiness.

Aragorn's musings was interrupted when the door suddenly opened and Lorellin slipped inside without so much of a knock, her face lit by the lamp she carried. She ran her gaze over the scene before her, and then smiled with obvious satisfaction.

"Oh, forgive me, my lord!" She exclaimed softly as she set down the lamp on the table. "I didn't mean to be so long, but I thought it best to wait until my husband was asleep before I fetched the children."

"I have had longer watches than this," Aragorn whispered in reply. He rose slowly and carefully, still holding Finduil.

"And of course, you and Legolas could be trusted to attend to the children."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"

She smiled slyly, "why, that there was no reason you would neglect them for…other things."

"In that, you are quiet right," he snapped. He could tell that Lorellin was thinking that Legolas was hardly someone to inspire passion. "Though I very much wanted to do _**other things**_ with him, if not for the children," Aragorn said, a smirk gracing his face.

Lorellin was surprised by his revelation, then her brows furrowed and she glanced sharply at the sleeping form of Legolas. Then she returned her gaze slowly at Aragorn and forced a smile, trying top hide her annoyance.

"I fear you have to carry Finduil home for me, if you are able," she whispered coyly, "or we have to wake him."

Aragorn glanced down at the elfling he held against his chest, and then nodded. "I will manage it."

"I'll wake Legolas," Lorellin said.

Aragorn swiftly stood up and limped in front of her.

"Let him sleep," he commanded, the words an order even though he whispered. "Take the baby. I will wake Legolas when I return."

For an instant, it looked as if Lorellin would protest, but she glanced at his face and wisely reconsidered. Instead, she gently lifted Beithris without disturbing Legolas.

Pouting a little, she took the lamp from the table and led the way out of the chamber and of the palace.

As they went toward Lorellin's talan, Aragorn surveyed the woodland realm as it was blanketed by the moon's silver light. It's very unlike Lothlorien with its silver mallorn trees that added to the realms beauty. But Mirkwood has a beauty of its own. It's as if the whole realm, its greens and browns, was painted using the moon's light itself, a masterpiece that only Eru's hands could make.

Then his thoughts wondered to the new visitors that arrived earlier. Saxons…he wondered who they were and what brought them here. Tomorrow, he would meet this unexpected visitor and try to gauge how their presence would affect the trade negotiations.

At the very least, King Thranduil would be distracted, which could mean that the negotiations might take some time to conclude.

That would have disturbed Aragorn when he first arrived, but now it made him smile inwardly with delight.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Legolas rolled over, and then woke with a start, for Beithris was no longer beside him. He sat up and scanned the room, realizing that he was alone.

He jumped to his feet and ran out of the chamber, wondering where Aragorn and the elflings were. He ran down the hall intending to search the whole palace until he came to the hallway wherein the city was in view. He stopped and ran his gaze outside. Then, he spotted a man climbing down of Lorellin's talan followed by Lorellin himself.

Of course! He thought with a sigh of relief. Aragorn had helped Lorellin take the children home.

He watched as Lorellin put a cloak over Aragorn's shoulders. They spoke together, their bodies nearly touching, their faces close.

And then Lorellin raised herself on her toes and kissed Aragorn.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taken aback by Lorellin's action, Aragorn pushed her away. "What are you doing, elf?" He demanded.

"Thanking you," she said in a low, lascivious voice.

"I do not want such thanks."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You-?"

"Go inside to your husband and children," he ordered.

With a toss of her pretty head, she did as she was bid.

Aragorn marched angrily toward the palace and directly to his quarters, not paying much heed to his sore foot. Ai Elbereth, he had thought Lorellin understood that he was not interested in her in anyway. Aside from the fact that she was already married, she was not Legolas.

He entered his chamber, expecting to find Legolas still asleep. Instead, the elf stood beside the bed, eyeing him quizzically.

A curse flew out of Aragorn's lips. He hoped Legolas had not seen Lorellin kissed him.

"You're awake," he observed as he removed the cloak and fold it on his arm.

"Obviously. You should have awakened me when Lorellin came for the children."

"Yes, I should," he agreed, feeling like a child being scolded by his parent. "Are you angry with me?"

"Why would I be?"

Legolas must not have witnessed Lorellin's kiss, he thought with relief. "That woman should be muzzled," he muttered.

Legolas' brow furrowed. "Did Lorellin say something to insult you, or is it the kiss you did not like?"

He glanced at him sharply. "You did see!"

"Oh, yes," Legolas replied lightly and with genuine nonchalance. "I would not make much of that. She kisses anyone she fancies."

Although he was relieved that Legolas was not upset, he was aggravated NONTHELESS. "Well, I do not want it!"

"You don't?"

"I don't"

"Yet you have been with whores with more modesty."

Aragorn's eyes widened with surprise, and then he flushed hotly beneath Legolas' steadfast gaze. I don not claim to be without fault, but I did not want her to kiss me!"

Legolas' gaze faltered for a moment as he smiled a little, then shrugged his shoulders. "Fine, whatever you say. I don't know why you're explaining your self anyway."

Aragorn opened his mouth, then closed it, and swallowed. "I…I just thought you might want to know what really happened," he reasoned put as he looked at Legolas.

Legolas smiled forcefully and breathe out through his nose, turning his head toward the balcony. Why? I don't care anyway."

Aragorn smiled slowly. "Now who is the liar?"

Suddenly the lamp went out, sending them into pitch-black darkness.

Waiting for his eyes to get used to the dark, Legolas didn't move, afraid that id he did, he would collide with Aragorn.

Instead, Aragorn walked into him, nearly knocking him off his feet.

"Forgive me!" Aragorn quietly cried, steadying the elf.

Legolas tried to ignore the sensation of his touch, although it seemed to him afire with longing. "I'll just go outside for a moment to put more oil in the lamp."

"Perhaps I should stay right where I am, lest I knock you down or hurt myself more," Aragorn said softly.

Legolas swalloed hard. "I think you do not have to keep holding on to me, unless you ankle is still weak."

"There is that, too," he murmured.

Aragorn was aware that he was not behaving like an honorable guest. Still, he continued to stabd so close to Legolas, inhaling his delightful fragrance of sun and grass and pine. He let go of him and watched Legolas as the elf went outside with the lamp.

After a while, Legolas came back with a lighted lamp and a concerned look crossed his face.

"Are you trembling?" Legolas asked suddenly.

He realized that he was. "I fear it's kind of cold tonight," he replied.

Legolas quickly put down the lamp on the table. "I will light a fore, too," he offered.

"I would prefer to warm myself another way," he whispered as he gently pulled the elf into his embrace.

"This is…this is very warm, indeed," Legolas murmured, laying his golden head against his chest.

Aragorn was delighted when Legolas pulled out of his embrace, and he laughed softly, his chest vibrating against the elven cheek.

"What amuses you so?" Legolas asked softly.

"I'm not amused, Legolas," he whispered as he bent his head to kiss the elf. "I'm just happy."

Legolas welcomed his kiss with eager ardor and it deepened as Aragorn's hands entwined themselves in her hair, just as he had longed to do.

Legolas moaned and leaned against him, making him feel the elf's lithe body, making him wanting more.

Aragorn thrust his tongue between the elf's soft lips while his hands explored Legolas' body.

Legolas gasped as Aragorn trailed fervent kisses down her soft neck, the man's hand found it's way inside his tunic, stroking his perfect chest.

Aragorn had to love Legolas. Now.

With a low growl of pure desire, he swept the elf into his powerful arms and laid him there and stepped back, looking at elven beauty with passion-darkened eyes. Anxious to possess him, his fingers fumbled with the buttons of his tunic

Legolas laughed softly at his predicament. "I am impatient, too," he whispered huskily.

He froze. "Impatient?"

His ardor died.

He was acting based on his lust and desires like some ruffian, and not like an honorable prince that he should be.

He sat on the end of the bed and ran his hand through his hair.

"What is it?" Legolas asked, raising himself on his elbows to regard him with concern.

"You were right. I am impatient," he replied, glancing at him, disgusted with himself. "I am not normally so."

Flushing, Legolas scrambled off the bed. "I am not a whore," he said firmly.

He rose to face him, his countenance contrite. "Of course you are not. It's me, not you. The only excuse I can make is that I have never felt like this before, for anyone."

"I have never felt this way before, either," Legolas confessed.

"Never?"

"Not ever," Legolas confirmed, and Aragorn's heart swelled with hope and happiness.

He gently took her by the shoulders, regarding him steadily. "Although I'm glad about it, Legolas, I think it would be best if we would be less…impetuous…for we hardly know each other."

Legolas nodded in agreement, though he was blushing with his own lack of control. If Aragorn had not stopped, he would have willingly –and wrongly- made love to him.

Though what Aragorn had said was right, Legolas still felt disappointed. And it must have shown in his face, for Aragorn gathered him in his arms and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

"You know, I would leave here with you tonight, if you asked me to," Legolas whispered.

"You would?"

"Yes."

Aragorn sighed wearily. "I have never had a more tempting proposal."

Legolas looked up at him with pleading eyes. "I want to go away with you. I would go anywhere with you, gladly."

Aragorn's hands clasped loosely about her waist, and leaned back a little to search the elven face. "That would destroy any possibility of a trade agreement between our fathers."

"Yes, it would," Legolas replied, stiffening.

"Legolas, I want to be with you, too, but I think we must consider the consequences of whatever we do. We must not let our hearts rule our heads"

Legolas could not deny that he was speaking wisely. "Very well."

Aragorn sighed raggedly. "I begin to understand Boromir a little better."

Legolas gave him a puzzled look.

"Boromir is forever falling in and out of love. I have never understood why, but now, I begin to see that in love, one has little choice."

"Aragorn?"

"Yes?"

"Are you saying…that you love me?" Legolas asked in a small voice, scarcely daring to believe it was possible.

Aragron nodded solemnly. "If what I feel for you is not love, I have no name to put to it."

"I love you, too," Legolas murmured, then reached up and kissed Aragron, but only lightly brushing his lips across his.

Aragron groaned softly. "You had better leave me, for I fear all my notions of honor and duty are wavering with you in my arms."

"Mine, too," Legolas admitted, reluctantly leaving his warm embrace.

Aragorn watched the elf as he went to the door, astonished at how bereft he felt. He was so tempted to call him back, only the knowledge that Legolas deserved to be treated with utmost respect prevented him from doing so.

Legolas paused on the door and glanced back at him.

"Perhaps we should hide these feeling from others," he proposed, "for if my father knew, he might try to take advantage of you when discussing the trade pact."

"You are very shrewd and wonderful, Legolas"

"And you are most honorable, Aragorn."

And with that, he went out of his chamber and danced his was to his own talan, too happy in Aragorn's love to simply walk.

_Tbc…_


	11. Chapter 11

**Thud Thud... Thud Thud..**

No sound... No movement... Everyone was so focused on the door in front of them...

**Thud Thud... Thud Thud...**

Anticipation... Excitement... the very air that surrounds the room suddenly became thick...

**Thud Thud... Thud Thud...**

The door suddenly creaked open... oh painfully slow... Light bursted out from within... and a lone figure step out...

"What's up b #$%es! Fuyu Jin is back!"

Haha, well how's that for a comeback speech? It's been 3 years... 3 years! heck, i thought I won't be able to come back again. Me thinks namo doesn't want me in his halls anymore and sned me back to you to finish this story of mine... haha. Sorry guys, it took me so long to continue. I reread all your reviews and decided to continue this one, haha. I hope I'm still welcomed. Oh by the way, i would like to thank those people who offered me their assistance by being my beta. I spent some time thinking about that, but decided to finish this story on my own. No offense. I think I'll try to improve my English through your constructive criticism. Take note: Constructive, okay? Haha. I want to see my improvement through out the story. So, that's it. But I do hope I can count on you on my following stories. I already have a story in mind and I'll be more than willing to have your help with that, so... mwah!mwah! tsup! tsup! haha. I love you huys. Please enjoy this suoer delayed chapter. ^^

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Lord of the Rings and it's characters, they are Tolkien's. Story is very much based on Margaret Moore's A Warrior's passion.

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~

"Aren't you bargaining too much?!" Thranduil thundered.

"Aren't you pricing too much?" Aragorn answered calmly.

The two sat at the king's hall as they were discussing the conditions of their trade. Thranduil reached for his goblet, scowling as he mumbled under his breath about men who knew nothing of the dangers of the forest.

Aragorn ignored his mumblings, thanking the Valars for the patience and self control they had gifted him when he was born. He had partaken of negotiations before, but none like his negotiation with the woodland king at the moment. The two had spent the entire morning discussing the terms and conditions of their trade. He somehow wondered if they were going to discuss the price of the spider silk the whole afternoon.

It's a good thing he wasn't in a hurry to leave Mirkwood, and so he allowed the king to complain as much as he liked.

Then he suddenly remembered the arrival of the Saxons, as Legolas told him. He wondered what their business here in Mirkwood was. He had noted the Saxonian prince's absence from the hall that morning to break the fast. His father taught him that as a visitor, one should accept the hospitality of his host.

"Foods, weapons and other materials are needed in procuring the spider silk. And then there's the risk, not only of acquiring the silk, but also in sending it to you." Thranduil said.

"The travel to Gondor, I understand. But whether we or we not buy your silk, you will still acquire it anyway, so I see no reason charge such high amount."

"But perhaps my men would not venture deeper into dangerous forest and spend more time than intended in spider lairs just to acquire more spider silk for you. Mind you Prince Elessar, those are my men!" Thranduil cried.

"Yes," Aragorn agreed. "But otherwise, your men would still go such dangerous task to acquire the silk."

Thranduil let go of a 'un-kingly' heavy sigh as he fell back on his chair. "You're a cold hearted fellow," he grumbled as he took a sip of his wine.

Aragorn managed to raise his eyebrows, making an amused look. _ Cold hearted?_ Oh yes, he was, until an elf named Legolas managed to creep under his skin, run through his veins and swim directly to his heart.

"Come!" Thranduil suddenly ordered, jumping to his feet.

Aragorn scrambled after the king as he marched out of the hall. Thranduil led him several hallways, turning left and right, until finally they were outside. A few more turns away from the courtyard and Aragorn found him being led to a busy area. Aragorn surveyed the scene before him. Many elves scampered here and there as they busied themselves in preparing and weaving the spider silk.

"Strong and smoother than Lorien silk," Thranduil boasted, glancing at Aragorn. "A very precious piece, that's spider silk."

All the elves working fell silent when they realized they have visitors, and they bowed in respect as they recognized their visitors. At Thranduil's wave their resumed their work, minding to clear a path for the two as they walked through their midst. And as they walked, Aragorn couldn't help but admire the silk that was being meticulously prepared by the elves.

"This is what I will trade with your father. Acquired from the most dangerous lairs that is harder to penetrate giving it the highest and finest quality,' Thranduil announced. "These silks received more attention in preparing and more meticulously weaved."

"This does look a fine silk," Aragorn agreed, resisting the urge to run his hand along the silk that hung from a clothesline.

Thranduil came around Aragorn and gestured at Aragorn at what clearly was his pride. "Is that all you can say, Prince of Gondor? This will be the finest silk in the whole of Arda!"

"So it may be," Aragorn conceded. "But that is of less concern to my father than the amount you wish to put on it."

Some of the nearby elves began to mutter, believing that Aragorn was insulting their handiwork, which reminded Aragorn that he was in an elven territory, whose elves were very much capable of wielding weapons that they could easily throw on him.

Aragorn stepped back with obvious admiration, "I have seen no silk to compare it with, though. Tell me, what does your Saxonian guest think of it?"

Thranduil's face darkened for a moment before a thundering voice answered the question.

"He will undoubtedly admire it."

Aragorn turned to see a tall, broad, blonde elven warrior standing there, a cold smile gracing the elf's stoic yet handsome face. He was dressed in a black silk tunic with the ruby-eyed wolf insignia, his waist was adorned with a silver sword belt with two pockets for his mithril twin knives, black woollen breeches and his booted feet topped with black leggings.

As the fellow strode towards them, in an all high and mighty attitude, Aragorn tried not to raise one of his eyebrows, though he couldn't help thinking, _'is he mourning?'_

He said nothing to Aragorn, though he inclined his head at Thranduil as a greeting, before speaking with some elves in Sindarin. Judging with his tone and the elves' respectful and pleased reactions, he was definitely complementing them and their handiwork.

Finally, Thranduil moved. "Prince Limuel," he said to the warrior elf. "This is my other guest, Prince Elessar of Gondor."

Limuel glanced at his shoulder and gave Aragorn a dismissive glance. "I thought as much."

"Prince Elessar, this is Prince Limuel of the Saxons"

"I thought as much," Aragorn replied coolly.

The Saxon turned and focused his cool visage at Aragorn. Then he laughed. Knowing very well that Aragorn had no idea about his people.

Aragorn did not as much as smile.

Thranduil looked uneasily, though as discreetly as possible, from one prince to another.

"You are interested with silk?" The Saxon asked.

"When they are of finest quality." Aragorn replied.

"A spider silk is better than an elf," Limuel remarked, running his fingers at the spider silk. "So smooth and soft, making it challenging at times, although whatever challenge it presents, it's still all worth it, especially when you feel it caress your very skin..."

"Fine things in a silk perhaps," Aragorn observed. "If you prefer a thing rather than flesh, blood and spirit, so be it.

Limuel threw back his head and roared with laughter. "You have me there, Gondorian!" He cried jovially. "What is a piece of spider silk to a willing and beautiful elf, indeed?" Then Limuel casted a short glance at Thranduil and smirked. "Perhaps, Gondorian, you would like to know more about the Saxons: who we are, where we hail?" He cocked his head and ran a measuring gaze over Aragorn. "Would you come out and ride with me to the forest?"

The last thing Aragorn wanted to do was to spend some time with this Saxon.

"Or has your _**little**_ injury prevents you from doing even just that?" Limuel said, not hiding the challenge in his eyes.

Aragorn felt a déjà vu. The last time he took up a challenge, he was lucky he was not seriously injured. Would there be a danger if he were to ride with this elf, which he still considered as a mystery?

He was Prince Elessar Telcontar, son of the King of Gondor, and a welcomed guest of King Thranduil. Surely he was too valuable a person to be murdered.

He would not have anyone think him a coward, most certainly not an arrogant Saxon, who ever they are, or Legolas' father.

"I will be most pleased to ride with you."

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU`AU~AU~AU~AU~U~AU

Later that day, Legolas stared unseeing at the stream by the clearing, as he sat at the bank, letting his feet dangled at the cold water. His mind lies far away from his home, imagining a future he had never dared to dream of, as the cherished mate of someone who would accept him and love him unconditionally. Once he was with Aragorn, happy and free at last, he would do everything in his power to be a good mate for him. Their lives would be full of pure, radiant joy and passion. Passion – that word alone brought a burning desire to him.

"Well Legolas," Lorellin said, walking towards the brook, carrying Beithris and leading Finduil by the hand. "You are here."

Legolas was startled to find Lorellin at his clearing and flushed guiltily because of his recent imaginings. Too hooked up he was in his thoughts that he did not notice her approaching.

Lorellin sat down under the shade of a tree near Legolas, and cradled Beithris in her arms, while Finduil stood next to him and faced him.

"Where's Prince Elessar?" Finduil asked plaintively. "I want to see him."

"I don't know," Legolas answered honestly.

"When can he tell me another story?"

Lorellin looked at her son with annoyance, then at Legolas. "If Finduil had been put to bed earlier," she charged, "he would not be so peevish."

Legolas wanted to ask Lorellin if a similar thing would make her less peevish, but he just kept it to himself.

"Prince Elessar is probably with the king," he explained to Finduil. "Perhaps the prince will be able to tell you some story again later, when he already has some free time."

Lorellin's eyes gleamed with the superiority of someone who knew something of which others were ignorant. "I saw him at the silk field. Your father was there too, as well as the other prince."

Finduil grabbed Legolas' hand and started to tug. "Then let's go see him!"

Legolas gently disengaged the elfling's hand. "They might be discussing maters of importance. Perhaps later, Finduil."

Finduil, apparently sensing the futility of persistence, reluctantly sat beside Legolas. The elfling pulled his boots off and dangled his little feet on the water, much like Legolas.

"I wonder what they are discussing with the Saxonian Prince..." Legolas wondered, more to himself than to Lorellin.

"I heard Prince Limuel inviting Prince Elessar to ride with him to the woods, saying something about who they are and where they from." Lorellin replied as she gently rock the sleeping Beithris in her arms.

"But what about his sprain? I'm sure it still hurts... a bit..." Legolas said worriedly, with a frown marring his beautiful face.

Lorellin just shrugged her shoulders, "well, I'm sure that Prince Elessar won't be so much of a fool to agree with it if he still feels any discomfort..."

Legolas just let out a heavy sigh. Catching the scent of rain, he looked to the north, where high, gray clouds massed in the distance.

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~

Aragorn couldn't help but admit that Prince Limuel was a great companion, although he still couldn't shake the feeling of coldness, arrogance and mystery surrounding the said elf. Limuel had told him some interesting facts about the Saxons during their ride towards the northern forest. Although Aragorn could clearly see that the Saxonian Prince was carefully keeping some information untold.

King Cedric, the King of the Saxons, built his own kingdom somewhere in Arda where no one knows, and they intended to keep it that way. No records of them were written in history for their kingdom was established after the battle of the last alliance and all the elves that went with King Cedric cut all connections they have with other elven realms. They built their own empire, which they called Nevareth, and they called themselves Saxons. They chose to live in seclusion, and only the King of Mirkwood knew of their existence. But now, someone else from the race of men was aware of their being. Limuel told, or rather, warned Aragorn that it may well be good for him to be the only man who had this precious limited information.

Aragorn agreed to it. Despite his confidence that nothing would happen to him in the hands of the Saxon, especially because as the son of King Arathorn, he was an important man, Aragorn kept wary with him. After all, an unforeseen 'accident' was not impossible, as he mind his injured ankle, and the gray clouds that started forming in the north.

Limuel, too, glanced northward as he came beside Aragorn, still atop of his own stallion.

"The weather should hold for some time yet," Limuel said.

"He's a wonderful steed," Aragorn said, not hiding his admiration of the brown horse he was riding at the moment.

"Aye, he is well trained. I can say that, unlike other elves, we Saxons have more affinity with animals. There's no beast we can't tame." Limuel said proudly, earning him a raised eyebrow from Aragorn.

Well, what can anyone expect? For the most part, he was raised by Lord Elrond Peredhel, and 'twas no wonder that he managed to copy some of the Noldo's actions.

"I have heard of your father, the King Arathorn of Gondor, with his one eye."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. Although we live in a more hidden corner of Arda, it doesn't mean we are ignorant with the rest of the world. And I think, somehow, we have something on common."

"And that is?"

Limuel chuckled before he continued. "Well, you do have an elven blood in you, knowing your race is the descendant of Elros."

Aragorn nodded, reflecting that Limuel seemed in an oddly serious mood. Indeed, somehow there's elven blood in my veins, albeit very little. But because of this, I was able to spend big part of my childhood under the care of Lord Elrond and his household, of whom I dearly consider as family."

Limuel gave him another sidelong glance. "So, is your family's loyalty to the men, or to the elves?"

Aragorn kept his gaze focused on the north. "I have come to Mirkwood for a trade arrangement, not to take sides. In fact, I don't see any need for it."

Limuel chuckled as a response.

"Perhaps you thought this trade pact implies an important alliance with my father."

Limuel grinned. "Why would I? It's no concern of us if Thranduil make more allies. After all, we already have his loyalty, hmm?"

The words were calmly spoken but Aragorn heard the underlying menace. Just what Limuel was trying to point out? He was now beginning to get confused with the other's motives. Then, he somehow thought that his bonding with Legolas might have other consequences.

Suddenly, a sound caught Limuel's attention, and if it wasn't for his elven agility, it would have been his head and not the tree on his side that would be struck of an arrow. That arrow was followed by several more, and to make it worse, orcs came out from the trees. Soon they found themselves fighting down the fell creatures.

"Tsk, as if this is not a bad situation enough," Limuel muttered as thunder roared from the sky, followed by heavy drops of rain.

The two tried to fight the orcs while preventing themselves from falling out of their horses, especially Aragorn, whose ankle was still in the process of healing.

Limuel surely showed more prowesses in fighting than any elves Aragorn had seen. Slashed here, slashed there, stabbed down then curving upward. The twin knives he was using seemed like flashes of light with the swiftness of his hands.

Aragorn easily and expertly swung his sword around, cutting everything that crossed is path. The horses, he managed to observe through their predicament, were truly well-trained, for instead of being surprised and restless due to the surprise attack, were calm and knew how to act for their riders' comfort and advantage.

They'd been like that for what seemed like hours and yet their enemies' number didn't seem to diminish. They have realized too late that they have ventured too deep in the forest, and regretted on not having any escort to accompany them.

Aragorn groaned through clenched teeth as he instinctively kicked an orc with his injured foot. A dagger flew past Aragorn's face just to land on an orc's forehead. He looked at Limuel and nodded his head in thanks.

"I could fight off these orcs myself with no problem at all, but I think I must not endanger King Thranduil's important guess," Limuel shouted as he guided his horse near Aragorn's. "I think it would be wise if we retreat for the meantime."

He reared his horse towards the direction of the Palace. "Come!" He commanded above the sound of the battle and of the howling wind.

* * *

Whew! Chapter 11 up! Haha... so... just tell me what you think of this chapter. i'll go back to my old routine, that it, to update one chapter every week. I hope you won't mind. Haha. So, until the next chapter! Please don't forget to leave your reviews. Thank you! :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Authoress note:** Waaaaiiiii... I'm so glad I'm still accepted here. :3 And as I promised, I updated this story after one one week. Say what? Say what! Haha. Thank you for the reviews people.

**jemlou - **actually, even I could not believe that I updated this story. I had a very hectic schedule so I have given up all hope that I can still continue this story. Oh well, lets just be happy that I manage to lift my pen again, haha. As for the other LOTR characters... I think I already mentioned before that Boromir, Gilraen and Arathorn will appear in later chapters. I don't think I will be adding more characters aside from them. :)

**silmarlfan1 - **Don't worry, I'll keep it up. Errr... I'll... try...? Haha. Peace. ^^

**cookie8711 - **Really? Well, I hope you will like this story up to the end. :)

**mistyfoxmaid - **Oh really? And how can you be so sure that Aragorn will find a way to prevent Legolas' marriage...? *suddenly covered my mouth with my hands* Oops... forget it... I'm telling you, i didn't say it...! Haha.

**to my anonymous guest, haha - **whoever you are, thank you for loving this story. And for that, here's the next chapter!

Really, I missed answering reviews... How I survived three years without this is beyond me. Well, enough of this already. Just enjoy this chapter and tell me what you think about it okay?

**Disclamier: **I don't own LOTR, Story is based on Margaret Moore's A warrior's passion.

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~

Wrapped in his cloak, Legolas waited in the shadow of the inner wall, looking through the small gap that was meant for scanning the area outside the stone wall without being seen. The storm has arisen so suddenly, and he decided to keep watch for Aragorn's return.

_'What if they ventured too far? What if they were attacked by orcs and spiders?'_ Just the thought of something bad happening to Aragorn brought anguish to his heart, but he pushed it aside. No, he strongly believed in Aragorn's skills. And he was also sure that the Saxonian Prince was a great warrior by his own right.

Palace guards were also waiting for their guests inside the stone wall, and instructions were already passed on the others warriors who were scouting the forest.

A whistle caught his attention and made him strain his eyes.

Not long after, two riders appeared through the thick forest, and they didn't show any sign of slowing down. The stone wall creaked as it opened just enough for the two riders to pass through. Only when they had entered the stone wall and heard it closed behind them did they halt slowly.

"Thank Eru!" He cried, looking to the clouded heavens as relief and gratitude filled him.

He hurried down the stone stairs and made his way towards the courtyard. Once there, he stayed behind the crowd of elves that gathered around the two riders, happy and relieved.

He had no business there, nevertheless, he wanted to be near Aragorn. Needed to be near him.

"Prince Elessar! Prince Limuel!" His father cried out. "What trouble befell on the two of you?" Thranduil inquired seeing their not-so disheveled appearances, though no particular wound or scratches.

Limuel and Aragorn got off their horses, their soaking hair and garments clinging to their bodies. Their horses were taken by a stable master.

"I fear we have ventured too far, and a band of orcs happened to chance upon us," Limuel replied brushing his hand on his wet hair. Then he grinned and nodded at the equally sodden Aragorn. "And I used that chance to convince him of the superiority of the Saxons."

"I would say you have succeeded," Aragorn replied laconically. "Although we have to retreat after a while. Your scouts, I believe, have already taken care of what we left of them."

Legolas smiled with more relief while listening to their conversation. Then he caught Aragorn's eye and smiled.

Aragorn did not smile back, yet there came a look on his eyes that told him he had seen him, and was glad.

"Both of you must join me in the hall. I will have the best food, and plenty of Dorwinion wine to take off the chill." Thranduil said.

"That would be great," Limuel agreed. "Then we should get into dry clothes first."

Hearing this, with joy-lightened feet, Legolas hurried away, thinking of the large chilly interior of the guest quarters.

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~

Aragorn felt mysteriously exhausted as he wearily trudged toward the guest quarters. He would be glad of warm, dry clothing – although not so glad as he had been to see Legolas smiling at him.

Legolas suddenly vanished from the courtyard, and Aragorn supposed he must have to help in the hall. Legolas, after all, was the one assigned to manage for those tasks.

He entered his quarters and saw Legolas at once, building a fore on the hearth. The warm of fire enveloped him, although, it was nothing compared to the warmth that coursed through him at the sight of Legolas' smiling face.

"Legolas!" He cried happily – then propriety, and his notion of honorable behavior, reminded him that they should not be alone together in such intimate circumstances.

"Should you not be in the hall? Won't they wonder where you are?"

"I thought you might be cold…"

Legolas hesitated, flushing prettily and lowering his gaze.

"So you came to prepare this fore for me?" Aragorn said softly. "I am delighted."

Aragorn was very tempted to take Legolas in his arms, if only he wasn't soaking wet.

"You should get out of those clothes, or you might catch a cold," Legolas suggested.

"I have a very strong resistance, I don't get sick easily." Aragorn said wryly, "still, this is not a comfortable state."

"Aragorn, I was so worried…" Legolas whispered. "I thought something bad might happen to you."

Aragorn clucked his tongue as he threw off his cloak and went to his bedroom to look for some linen with which to dry, as well as fresh clothes. Legolas trailed after him. "You underestimate me so, Legolas," Aragorn said, mocking a somewhat hurt look. Then he smiled softly at Legolas. "Worry not, I won't die yet. I still have to make a future with you."

The smile that Legolas bestowed on him dimmed all other lights.

He threw aside the linen, then he turned around to face Legolas and reached for him. Pulling him into his arms, he gently kissed Legolas' forehead. "Thank you for preparing this welcome for me."

"I should leave you now," Legolas said regretfully. "If anyone were to discover me here…"

"It would not be good," Aragorn confirmed.

"I have to leave you," Legolas repeated softly, savoring the embrace he was in.

"I know. I agree."

Despite his words, Aragorn began to kiss Legolas. Soft, tender kisses that held the promise of barely suppressed passion.

Legolas eagerly sought his mouth, his own passion showing with a low moan of feverish desire. Their kiss deepened as more of their passionate desire blossomed forth.

Then, Aragorn reluctantly pulled away. "You are indeed tempting me."

Legolas shook his head. "It's you who's tempting me, kissing me like that."

Aragorn smiled wryly, his eyes merry. "I believe you are right. I must be because I am so exhausted that I am so forgetful of decorum."

Then another look came to his face. "I think you had best leave me. My remaining strength is waning fast."

"Yes, I must go," Legolas agreed reluctantly as he pulled away and proceeded to the door.

He glanced back over his shoulder to see Aragorn lying on the bed, one arm carelessly thrown over his face. And before he could bid him farewell, Aragorn was already asleep.

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~

Later that evening Aragorn was found sitting in Thranduil's hall, wearing another 'gift' made of spider silk, lazily holding a goblet in his hand, and gravely contemplating the elves around him. He would far rather contemplate Legolas, but he thought it unwise, given that other might be suspicious. Instead, he just satisfied himself with quick glances on Legolas, who was seating opposite side of him, every now and then.

The elves were proving to have a limitless capacity for the wine – so much so, Aragorn had long ago lost count of the number of bottles they had consume.

Although it was very obvious that somehow, the alcohol was starting to have its effect on them. A very good proof of this was the way the elves talked to each other in a boisterous and loudmouthed manner.

As Thranduil and Limuel began to argue about the skills and expertise of their own warriors, Legolas, who, by the way, was seating beside Limuel, began to shift uncomfortably. He was wearing a tunic with the color of the forest, his blonde hair was bound back in a single braid, so Aragorn could easily see his fascinating face.

Aragorn fought the urge to stare as Legolas continued to move restlessly on his seat. Why was Legolas seated there anyway? He should have just been seated beside him. Eru, he could watch him all night. He knew Legolas would not mind. And he also knew _'others'_ would mind.

Despite his resolve not to betray any special feeling for him, he could not help smiling a little when Legolas glanced at him. One must strain their eyes to notice that Legolas' lips twitched in a similar small smile of response, yet for that moment, it was as if they were alone.

Limuel rose, swaying a little but managed to steady himself by putting his hands on the back of his and Legolas' chair.

"The Dorwinion wine is really good, my king, but it does not linger," Limuel announced with a cold smirk and a slight bow before turning around.

But before he fully turned around, he paused half way for a while, looking at Legolas, as if perusing him from head to toe, with unreadable glint in his eyes, before finally heading for the door.

Aragorn glared at Limuel as he went outside. He was not at all pleased at that look that the Saxonian Prince bestowed at Legolas.

Legolas caught his eye and must have realized how angered Aragorn was by Limuel's action, for Legolas shook his head. Obviously, Legolas did not want him to say anything about it. As much as Aragorn hated remaining silent, Legolas was right. Limuel after all didn't make any rude action other than looking, which for him is very rude, and it might also be passed on as just the effect of wine.

But when we was his mate, Aragorn silently vowed, he would see that no one would look at Legolas that way, or Valar forbid, he would pull out their eyes from its sockets.

"Three hundred pieces of fold is not that much," Thranduil suddenly announced, eyeing Aragorn while he picked some salted meat in front of him.

The devious king had decided to negotiate when he thought his potential trading partner was half-drunk.

Unfortunately for Thranduil, Aragorn wasn't even half-drunk, for Aragorn had put some of his wine '_somewhere safe,'_ not wanting to lose his wits.

"A hundred is what my father considered fair," Aragorn replied, just as easily returning to their negotiations, which had been so abruptly interrupted that morning.

"What?" Thranduil cried, "A hundred!"

"Alas, I fear the Dorwinion wine is making me light-headed," Aragorn replied evenly. "I think it would be wise if we just discuss this tomorrow, and in private."

"I think we could decide tonight," Thranduil declared.

"I do not," Aragorn said, with a firm finality in his tone.

"Aye, perhaps you're right," Thranduil muttered. "But a hundred," he continued in a low grumble. "That's an insult!"

Thranduil did seem truly upset by the amount, so Aragorn felt it appropriate to indicate that this was merely a preliminary figure.

"On the contrary, I think it is a fine… starting point," Aragorn replied.

Out on the corner of his eyes, Aragorn noticed Limuel returned.

Thranduil also noticed him. "Perhaps this is not really the time for such important discussions."

The Saxon made his way to his seat again, somewhat making sure that his hand would brush on Legolas' shoulder as he sat again beside hi9m.

Then Lorellin entered the hall, carrying more food. As if by some secret signal, everyone in the hall, except Legolas, looked at her, Aragorn included.

Well, she was certainly what male species would call beautiful, given the attention they were bestowing on her. For a servant serving in the banquet, she was surely over dressed, wearing a light silken gown of cornflower blue, her waist accentuated by a yellow sash, a necklace of polished stones set in silver was about her neck, and a similar bracelet graced her wrist.

Out on the corner of his eyes, Aragorn caught the brief frown that crossed Thranduil's face when he saw her, no doubt sharing the same impression Aragorn had on Lorellin's choice of dress tonight.

Aragorn dispassionately watched Lorellin approach their table and slowly set the food in front of Limuel. She gave the Saxonian Prince a coy smile.

"Where are your children?" Aragorn asked.

She glanced at him as if he were an annoying insect. "With one of the other servant," she replied pertly. Then, after again smiling at Limuel, she sauntered away.

Vaguely disgusted with her obvious flirtation, Aragorn looked at Legolas and saw him looking at Nolvar, who was watching his wife, a scowl darkening his face.

Legolas felt eyes on him, and when he turned his head, he was not disappointed to know that it was Aragorn who was staring at him.

Legolas gave him a curious look as another servant refilled his cup with more wine, probably wondering how drunk he was, for his cup had been refilled many a time. When the servant walked away from him, Aragorn risked a wink and a quick look at the poor plant near behind him, and was rewarded with the smile in Legolas' eyes.

Unfortunately – but wisely – Legolas looked away and turned his focus on his father and Limuel.

"I will say this to you, mu king," Limuel suddenly declared. "You have the most beautiful ellith in this hall I have ever beheld."

"Ah… Prince Limuel, Surely you must be kidding. And if not, I bet you would change your opinion if ever you set your eyes upon our Evenstar," Thranduil replied, carefully glancing at Aragorn.

"Is that so?" Limuel inquired, sipping at his wine before continuing. "That may be, but right now, I can say that that ellith is as lovely as a goddess."

Aragorn very much wanted to snort at that comment, if only it wasn't rude and impolite for a man of his bearing to do so.

Look at that fellow," Limeul declared with a throaty chuckle, nodding at Nolvar as Lorellin set more food before his husband. "He's like a wolf scenting fresh meat."

"That fellow's her husband," Thranduil said just loud enough for those closest to him to hear."

"Grace of the Valar, he is a fortunate fellow."

"He is also a jealous fellow," Aragorn noted, "so perhaps you should keep your compliments to yourself."

"What, can I not declare that he has a lovely wife?" The Saxon demanded incredulously. Then he called to Nolvar. "You have a wife as beautiful as the stars on a fine evening sky! I drink to your good fortune!"

With that, he raised his cup towards Nolvar, put his cup to his lips and took a sip.

Nolvar shot a glance at his preening wife, who attempted to look modestly shocked by Limuel's words, then raised his own cup in a salute.

Limuel put his cup down and turned his head slightly to look at Legolas, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips, which sent shiver to Legolas' spine. Legolas drank to his own cup with a large gulp, willing himself stop from shifting nervously at his seat.

"Although I think, I saw a much precious treasure around here," Limuel said huskily, as one of his hand slowly crept on Legolas' thigh, sliding down his knee before giving it a soft squeeze. "What do you say, Prince Legolas?"

"Legolas stiffened on the contact, his eyes widening. He could not believe what was happening. His cheeks became flushed when Limuel asked him, not because he was fluttered, but because he was angry of the bold action of the Saxon. 'How dare him! How dare this Saxon touch him thus?'

` Aragorn watched the scene in front of him when Limuel suddenly asked Legolas. And when he saw Legolas flushed, he suddenly realized that while the Saxonian Prince rested his chin on his right hand, his left hand strangely disappeared under the table. Anger coursed through him as his hand unconsciously drifted towards his weapon, having a good guess of what was going on.

Fortunately, Thranduil choose that moment to interrupt. "Limuel, I think that treasure you're pertaining to is the Dorwinion wine isn't it?" Thranduil said. "I think you need more wine."

"Aye, I think I need more wine," Limuel agreed as he coldly smile at Thranduil, his other hand emerging again from beneath as he grabbed his cup and emptied it with one big gulp.

"More wine? Of course! More wine for the king's important guest!" Legolas suddenly called out. Aragorn, like everyone in the hall, stared at him as he suddenly stood up, intercepting a servant carrying a carafe of wine. He snatched the carafe from the servant before turning to face Limuel.

"Legolas…" His father hissed.

Legolas ignored Thranduil and didn't look at Aragorn, all his attention focused on Limuel. "Alas, Prince Limuel, I fear that as my father's son, I must see that you get enough food for your belly and all the wine you crave. Now if you allow me, my lord," he said, holding out the carafe.

The Saxon tilted his head, and then smiled at Legolas before lifting his cup.

Then Legolas dumped the entire content of the carafe over Limuel's head.

_tbc..._

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~

And how's that for chapter 12 people? Hope you like it, please leave a review. It would be very much appreciated. Oh, by the way, once I finish this story, I was thinking of writing another story, but instead of Aragorn and Legolas, its main pairing will be Glorfindel and Erestor. Recently I've been smitten by this pair, so... what do you think? Hope to hear from you soon! :) Unitl next week.


	13. Chapter 13

**Authoress' note: ** Whew! i thought I won't be able to update this chapter this week. good thing I managed. Haha. So namy things delaying me, but still, I prevailed! Hail! Haha. And so, just as I promised, here the next chappie. I hope you will enjoy this one.

**Jemlou **- Aww... I love you so much. You're making me feel very welcome again here. Mwah! haha. Well, I'm just so glad you enjoyed the last chapter. I hope you will also like this one and the rest that will follow. Thanks!

**Deaththekidlover36** - Haha, well now you know it's not wise to piss Legolas when he is holding something with liquid. :)

**Silmarlfan1 - **Haha, I think you're not very fond of Limuel, are you? :)

**Abby** - Oh yes, Legolas will be in trouble, but don;t worry, I won;t be too hard on him, I promise! :)

**mistyfoxmaid - **Lets bring out our pompoms and cheer for Legolas! Woohoo!

**pieconme** - I am also glad to be back. And as I promised, here is the next chapter. :)

**insanity - **I hope you will find this chapter interesting... very interesting... and if not, please don;t throw something at me... haha.

**Sapphirethief** - Isn't that just perfect? I myself love it! :)

**trollalalala** - Thank you so much. :) i hope you'll stick with me until the end

oh well, i love you guys, and this chapter is all for you, enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Lord of the Rings. Story is based on Margaret Moore's A Warrior's Passion.

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~

It was all Aragorn could do not to laugh out loud at the spluttering Saxon. The hall that was silent upon Legolas' speech became more silent, if that was even possible. All elves in the hall stared at the scene with obvious shock at what Legolas had just done.

Then Limuel jumped to his feet and slapped Legolas hand causing the decanter to shatter on the floor.

"You stupid elf!" Limuel snarled at Legolas.

Aragorn half rose, even though he had no clear idea what he was going to do or say, save come to Legolas' defense.

"Prince Elessar, please stay seated," Legolas said gravely, but with a twinkle of defiant pleasure in his large eyes. "I can very well handle myself here, thank you."

_'Ai valar, this elf is truly worthy of a warrior's respect!'_ Aragorn thought appreciatively as he obeyed. Such spirit! Such deserved pride!

Limuel shook his golden head so that droplets of wine flew about. "Is this the way a prince of Mirkwood should treat an honored guest, King Thranduil?" He growled.

"Your pardon, my lord, I fear I am a stupid creature," Legolas said with a mocking smile. "I did not realize that someone who acts so immoral was an honorable guest."

"Legolas," Thranduil muttered between clenched teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about but clearly you have shamed me. Leave this hall!"

"Gladly," Legoals replied with great dignity before turning on his heel.

Before he could take one step towards the door, his elbow was caught in tight grip, very tight grip.

"We're not yet finished, _Prince_," Limuel said in a dangerous tone, then he let go of Legolas. Legolas didn't cower, nor did he lower his gaze. He met Limuel eye to eye for a while, before strolling out from the hall as if in no hurry.

His eyes full of adoration, Aragorn watched Legolas go. Every inch of him was itching to follow his prince and praise him for his actions.

Meanwhile, Lorellin hurriedly grabbed a cloth from her pocket and rushed forward. She handed it to Limuel with a sympathetic smile.

Barely acknowledging her presence, Limuel snatched the cloth and started to wipe his face.

Thranduil swiped his irritated gaze over the elves before he turned to face Limuel.

"Alas, Prince Limuel," he said, "I apologize for what my youngest did."

"I trust you will make him understand that was not a wise thing to do," Limuel mumbled angrily, glancing sharply at the king.

"Aye, aye, I will."

"I suggest you waste no time."

Thranduil drew himself up. "It is not for even you to command me in my own hall," he reminded Limuel coldly.

Limuel stopped wiping his face, and then he slowly faced Thranduil, an incredulous yet warning expression on his face. Tension filled the hall.

"If you will excuse me," Aragorn muttered calmly, also getting to his feet, "I fear the hour grows late. I believe I should retire." He ran a bland look over the Saxon. "I would go out of those wet clothes, Prince Limuel, if I were you. 'Tis not very comfortable."

"And may I ask why you are in a hurry to leave?" Limuel demanded. "I am the one soaking wet."

"Then you should go and dry off," Aragorn replied. "As you said, the wine does not linger."

"There is no need for you to leave, Prince Elessar. Please, stay and enjoy the hospitality of my hall," Thranduil said, his words almost a command.

"And since you are very concerned to my state," Limuel said, "I should go back to my room and change into dry clothes." And with that, he turned around gracefully, and with quick but elegant strides, walked out of the hall.

"Prince Elessar, you should stay here," Thranduil said.

A battle was going on inside Aragorn. A battle what he wanted to do – to leave and go to Legolas, and what he needed to do – Stay for others might suspect that there was something between them.

In the end, he chose to sit again.

At Thranduil's next words, however, he felt he had made the wrong choice.

"Excuse me, Prince Elessar, but I must have words with my son."

And Thranduil strode from the hall.

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~

His breathing rushed and shallow, Legolas stood in his talan at the remote clearing of the kingdom, waiting in the dark. His father was going to come. He knew it. His father would truly follow him and chastise him for what he had done.

AS he waited, he imagined how it would be. Fir5st, his father would berate him, citing yet again his numerous faults and sins. Next he would make him explain, although his father wouldn't listen anyway. Then he would punish him.

It was this prospect that made him nervous and wonders if he had been foolhardy, not brave.

Perhaps he had gone too far. Oh yes, he had gone too far, but so did Limuel. How dare that Saxon touch him like that?! But ten, to do that in the hall, in front of many elves – both of Mirkwood and Nevareth nonetheless.

He wondered what his father would consider a fit punishment. He might order him to apologize to their guest. Or he might put him under house… errr… talan arrest – how he might suppose to see Aragorn if that happen?!

Perhaps his father might beat him.

Thranduil had never done so before, but he shaming his father in public might change that now.

"Legolas!"

Even though he expected his father's arrival, he could not help being startled. He commanded himself to be as calm as he could.

"I know you're here!" Thranduil demanded, peering around the dark talan. "Do you think you can hide from me, Legolas?"

Legolas struck flint and stone, and then lit an oil lamp so that his father could see him.

Thranduil glared at Legolas; in his mind he was thinking how insolent Legolas was to insult the prince of the Saxons.

"I wasn't hiding," Legolas declared with a familiar bravado.

"Then you should be," Thranduil snarled, his anger hiding his hidden hurt. Painful memories flooded him of a blond ellith who had fought him, enraged him, loved him and eventually left him for Mandos' hall, a blond ellith who looked exactly like his youngest son. "How dare you insult our guest in that way? Legolas, you don't know what he's capable of doing. He and his army might annihilate us!"

Because I poured some wine on his head?" Legolas asked skeptically.

Thranduil marched closer to him, then reached out and hauled him close. "Listen to me, Legolas. He is a powerful elf, and you've done a stupid thing! Ai Elbereth, you're like your mother!"

Whose head did she dump wine on?" Legolas inquired, his eyes flashing with anger. "Yours?"

"If she did, it was after we wed, not before!"

Legolas' eyes narrowed, "what do you mean?"

"You stupid elf, you are betrothed to Prince Legolas of Nevareth!"

At his father's words, a stone seemed to plummet at his stomach. He could scarcely breathe, or think. "Prince Limuel? I am to marry him?"

"Yes, it's true."

This was a nightmare, a hideous dream. "You said I was to please Prince Elessar," he reminded him. "And now you will offer me to Prince Limuel like an old horse you no longer want?"

"The prince himself proposed the match, so I could not refuse. We wood elves owe so much to the Saxon's king, and if this is what his son wants, then I would not refuse him." Something passed Thranduil's face, something akin to sadness or submission. Legolas wasn't sure, for before he could even think about it, his father suddenly hardened his face, and fastened a cold and unfeeling gaze upon him. "Finally, you are going to do something useful."

Legolas tried to hide the dismay he was feeling, but to no avail. Anguish clenched his heart so tight it hurts; he thought it would be crushed. "Has it not occurred to you, father, that you're taking away the only freedom I have? Does neither my choice nor my feelings no longer matter to you? You are making a very horrible decision father. This betrothal is just pure stupidity! And you are a very foolish elf!"

"You have no right to question me or my decisions, Legolas!" Thranduil growled. "I do what I think best – and if you can repay me in some small measure for being the cause of your mother's death, you should be grateful."

"Grateful!" He cried scornfully, his hands curling into fists. "Why must you blame me for something I have no control with? I did not wish for my mother to die!"

"Legolas!"

"I don't care if he is the heir to the throne of… of Nevareth, wherever that is. I will not marry him!" He declared.

His father ground his fist into large palm. "By Elbereth, if I order you to, you will!"

"But-!"

"But nothing!" His father cried, glaring at him. "You are the King of Mirkwood's son, so if then Prince of Nevareth wished to wed you, it must be done. And we've clasped hand…" Thranduil paused. "We've already sealed the agreement with our blood…" He finished.

A sense of impending doom washes over Legolas. Blood compact… they sealed the deed with blood… There's no way to break it anymore… It must come to pass…

Try to use your wits, Legolas," Thranduil said in a more reasonable tone. "If we don't do as Prince Limuel wills, he might attack the kingdom. His army inside are walls is enough o bring us down. Is that what you'd like better?"

"Surely he wouldn't –"

"He would," his father replied with a tone of absolute conviction.

Desperation and helplessness filled his heart he felt trapped, like a deer being chased by a pack of wargs to the edge of a clip.

Perhaps if he told his father about Aragorn and what seemed to be happening between them… "Father –"

"Legolas," his father interrupted, and suddenly Legolas saw not the stern, forbidding father of his childhood, or the cunning king. He saw a tired, bitter old elf. "Legolas, this marriage is arranged. It is going to happen, because it must. You must know that I owe King Cedric so much, and I swore to him that he can have anything he wish in return of his help. If not for the Saxons, there would be no Mirkwood, there would be no us. Limuel wants you as that prize, and it would be the worse for all of us if we refuse. We have no choice in this. Not you, not me."

"You honestly think that the Saxons will attack us if we break this betrothal?" He asked, not wanting to believe it.

"They would see it as a betrayal. They would see it as me not keeping my words. I know them; they would not hesitate to burn this kingdom... We don't have alliances from outside this realm; no one will help us, Legolas."

Thranduil truly believed that what he said would come to pass if Legolas did not marry Limuel.

But didn't he deserve some happiness? Had his life not been miserable enough? But then, seeing Mirkwood burned and his people killed was also horrible enough.

He knew that his father's words had been truthful and sincere. King Thranduil feared king Cedric's wrath, and so must he.

He was a king's son, and he had a duty to his people.

"Very well, father," he said defeated, all his hope destroyed, all his dreams turned to dust. "And I believe we should say nothing to Prince Elessar."

He would not be able to bear his disappointment.

Thranduil nodded, and in his eyes Legolas thought he saw a glimmer of respect – now, it did not matter. "This is settled, then," Thranduil said wearily. "We will say nothing to anyone else. Yes, I think it is better that way.

Legolas nodded. His father looked at him once more, and then went out into the night. Leaving him alone, with no one to witness his anguish or his muffled sobs.

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~

Keeping to the shadows, Aragorn hurried cautiously through the courtyard. His silently cursed his inability to leave the hall earlier. He had linger a little longer to avoid raising any suspicions among the elves, until the strain of wondering what Thranduil might do to Legolas drove him to excuse himself.

The moon was covered by a thin layer of cloud, dimming its already meager light, giving him a less chance to be seen.

Staying in the shadows of the trees, he made his way closer to the clearing. A talan built on top of the only tree, big and strong, at the edge of the stream caught his eye. It looked lonely, away by itself, aloof from the others. Like Legolas.

He was about to cross the open space between the trees and the talan when someone came out of the little dwelling and climbed down the tree.

Thranduil.

Aragorn ducked back into the shadows. He watched the king marched past toward his hall. When he was sure that Thranduil at a safe distance. He silently dashed across the open space and climbed up the tree. Once inside, he found himself standing in a very tidy room with a few furnishings.

"Legolas!" He called out softly.

"Yes?" Legolas replied quietly.

Legolas sat on a narrow bed, looking at Aragorn through the curtain of his magnificent hair.

Aragorn gently pulled Legolas to his feet, and then enfolded him in his arms.

"Legolas," Aragorn whispered. "My wonderful, brave, foolhardy Legolas."

Legolas' shoulders shook as he wept, evidence that his father might have been brutal to him, in words if not in action.

Aragorn raised Legolas' tear-streaked, downcast face. "I should have gotten here sooner."

When Legolas still would not meet his gaze, he frowned.

"Your father didn't hurt you, did he?" Aragorn charged, fighting to keep any menace from his voice.

Legolas shook his head as he sighed raggedly. "No." Then he wiped his tears with the back of his hand. He attempted to smile as he looked at Aragorn. "I fear I did something terribly wrong. My action is that of a stupid fool."

"No. No." Aragorn said firmly. I have a very good idea of what really happened, Legolas, and I assure you, that son of an orc deserves it." Then he held him tenderly, cherishing him, loving him.

"We shall soon leave this place, and him," Aragorn vowed softly, "and when you are my mate, no one will ever hurt you again. I give you my word, the word of Prince Elessar Telcontar." Then Aragorn knelt before Legolas. "Legolas Thranduilion, will you bind yourself with me?"

Legolas stared at the man he loved, his heart breaking. All his life, he had dared to dream of this moment, of someone loving him and loving that someone in return. But now it had come to pass, he had to refuse that love.

"Legolas, what is it?" Aragorn asked warily when Legolas didn't answer right away. "Have I made a mistake? Have I spoken too hastily?"

Legolas tried to muster the strength to tell him everything: that they could not be married, that he was betrothed without his knowledge or consent, that he has to marry an elf he abhorred or Mirkwood would suffer, that he had to let go of his happiness for the good of others, that he had a duty to his people and he could not shirk it, or there would be terrible consequences.

Yet the words would not come. He could not bring himself to destroy their love.

"Nothing would make me happier than to be your bonded mate," he confessed instead.

Aragorn's smile was so glorious it pained him anew.

"It will not be long before we can be bonded, I promise, Legolas." Aragorn cried happily, jumping to his feet. "I will take you away from here and everyone who doesn't value you." He grew serious. "First, though, I must return home. It is not that I seek delay. I would bind myself with you this instant, if I could. But I thought I would ask my father first regarding some matters. I don't want people to think that I will bind with Legolas Thranduilion because of some alliances, I want them to know that I will bind with you because I love you."

A sob caught in Legolas' throat as he hugged Aragorn tightly. "I… I wish we could leave here together this very night," he murmured.

"Legolas," Aragorn said softly, holding him. "I would prefer that, too. But it would not be wise. And besides, I would rather delay a little if it means nothing can come between us."

Legolas' heart seemed to be tearing in two as he looked into Aragorn's loving eyes. Then he reached up to kiss him.

Tomorrow, he decided, tomorrow he would find the words to tell Aragorn that he could not bind with him, but for now, this one last time he would kiss him with all the love in his heart.

Aragorn returned Legolas' kiss passionately. Legolas allowed himself the pleasure of rejoicing in the feel of Aragorn's hard, muscular body against hers. He caressed his back, stroking him from his shoulders to the tops of his breeches.

He should stop this, should end this right here and now. He was promised to another, and the fate of his people might rest on that betrothal.

He felt his hands in her hair, travelling slowly downward, past his shoulders to cup his buttocks and press him close.

How he wanted Aragorn! Wanted his passion and the love in his eyes.

Their kiss deepened , lips moving with sensuous necessity, tongues entwining in foreshadowing.

This one last time.

He might only have a short time before the trade negotiations were concluded. Then Aragorn would be gone. Gone forever. Never to be seen again. Touched again. Kissed again.

Like this one last time.

Leaning against Aragorn, he savored every particle of Aragorn's body with his fingers, slowly caressing him.

Aragorn pulled back and drew in a great, ragged breath. "Legolas, you must marry me. I need you. I want you for my mate, and with the gift that valars bestowed on your kind, to bear my children. To be with me always."

He knew he could not be.

And then he changed his mind.

_tbc..._

__AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~

Chapter 13 up! See you next week! :) Please read and review.


	14. Chapter 14

**Authoress' note: **Revelations! Revelations in this chapter! Haha, well... err... just part of it... But I do hope that it will be enough for you for i can't reveal to you yet the future of this story, okay?

**trollalalala - **Aww... You flatter me... Well, I hope you'll enjoy reading this chapter too. Although I think there's not much tension here, I'll make it up with the next chapter, or the chapter after this chapter, haha.

**silmarlfan1 - **Oooh... Don't worry, i'll keep going. :)

**jemlou -** If you were surprised with Thranduil the last time, I'm sure you will still be surprised with Thranduil in this chapter... or so I hope. Haha. I also hope that they will have a happy ending... haha. Peace! I'm happy you're enjoying my story, you're making me so happy. :) Thank you so much.

**anonymous guest - **My, my, aren't we a bit hyper? haha. Thank you for dropping by. hope you will enjoy this chapter too. :)

**robinsmum - **yes, i agree with you that there are just few good mpreg stories out there, and I'm quiet happy because you thought that this is one of them. awwww... thank you... I hope I won;t disappoint you... :)

**another anonymous guest - **Well, I think that the answer to your question regarding the relationship between Aragron and Legolas is here in this chapter, though not completely. :)

**Abby - **So many question, so many questions. but sadly i only have one answer: stay tune. Haha, for I won;t reveal anything! Bwahahaha!

Well, dear readers of mine, I hope this chapter will be worthy of your time. please enjoy and don;t forget to leave a review, okay?

**Disclaimer - **I don't own LOTR. This story is completely based on Margaret Moore's A Warrior's Passion

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU

This one time, Legolas' heart commanded.

Just this one time to be with Aragorn. This one time to love him, truly and completely. This one time to grasp a life's worth of happiness.

Legolas stepped back, and without a word, drew off his sash. It fell to the ground as Aragorn stared at him with desire-darkened eyes. "Legolas..."

"Love me, Aragorn," he pleaded fervently. "Love me now. Tonight."

Before Aragorn could refuse, Legolas shed off the rest of his clothes, and the next thing Aragorn knew, Legolas was standing in front of him, naked.

"We will be married," Aragorn promised as he reached out for Legolas.

Legolas smiled at this honourable man who would not take what he was offering without some kind of promise between them.

"I will always be yours," he replied softly, and truthfully, hoping it would be enough.

"Legolas!" Aragorn swept him into his arms and laid him on the bed. In another instant, Aragorn had also shed off his clothes and was beside Legolas.

"I love you with all my heart, mate-to-be," Aragorn murmured, pressing feather-light kisses upon Legolas' forehead and cheeks. "I am yours forever."

"Shh," Legolas hushed, tears threatening to fall out from his eyes. "Later. We will speak of these things later."

Even though Legolas knew full well that there would be no later for them. Just this one time.

Aragorn wanted to love him slowly, this first time. He wanted to enjoy every moment of their intimacy, to savour every touch, and sigh and moan. He revelled in the feel of Legolas' naked flesh beneath his palm, and the sensation of Legolas' lips upon his.

His lips left Legolas' to trail down along the pulse of the elf's neck, and then lower until his mouth captured the elf's rosy nipple. Flicking his tongue delicately, he thrilled when Legolas arched against him, his breathing fast and shallow.

Still, Aragorn continued, moving lower.

Legolas put his hands on either side of Aragorn's head. "What -?" Legolas gasped as he instinctively parted his legs to give Aragorn more room. Her murmured his name, sounding unsure and yet excited, too.

"Let me do this," Aragorn murmured gently. "Let me pleasure you, my love."

Legolas' breath seemed to catch in his throat as Aragorn continued, his breathing grew more hoarse and his hips moved instinctively as Aragorn slowly entered him, his undulating movement exciting him, too.

No one had ever aroused Aragorn so, and even the thought of them not formally wed or even betrothed and Legolas might get with his child – as was the gift of the males of the firstborn, did not compelled him to stop. On the contrary, it filled him with even more desire for this elf who was his, who would always be his, as he was Legolas' forever.

"Aragorn!" Legolas cried out, arching and bucking in the throes of an ecstasy that matched Aragorn's, his pulsating muscles what little impetus Aragorn needed to reach the apex.

Aragorn growled with purely primitive release, and then collapsed against Legolas, breathing hard.

He realized Legolas was crying.

Very gently he pulled away and lay beside him. "I'm sorry if I hurt you," Aragorn said with genuine remorse. "I fear I may have been to... hasty."

Legolas brushed his tears away and smiled tremulously. "You didn't hurt me. I was crying because I'm happy."

Aragorn smiled with relief, knowing well the explanation for those tears.

"Legolas," he said gravely, "you know I have been with other lovers." He lifted Legolas' hand and kissed his fingertips. "But they are all forgotten now, and I will never want another. Only you.

Legolas looked away. "If... if something were to happen to me, you would surely find someone to take my place."

Aragorn gently cupped his chin and turned his head to look into his eyes. "If something were to happen to you, there would be an empty place in my heart forever."

"Oh, Aragorn," Legolas cried softly, clinging to him. "I love you, but I'm not worthy of you!"

"Of course you are," Aragorn said, stroking Legolas' golden hair and feeling more content and happier than he had ever been in his life. "I love you, Legolas, and when you are my mate, I will make certain you never have such doubts again."

Legolas' only response was a ragged sigh while he continued to hold Aragorn tightly, as if he had fallen into the sea and he has come to save him.

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU

"What is it?" Limuel demanded upon hearing a knock on his door. He had just finished washing himself and was now wearing a fresh set of clothes.

"It is I, Thranduil. I would speak with you."

Limuel strode towards the door and pulled it open for the king. Thranduil entered his chamber.

"I have come to ask your pardon again for my son's behaviour."

"He shamed me, nor only in front of your subjects, but also in front of my warriors."

"Prince Limuel," Thranduil started, spreading his hands in a gesture of reconciliation, but was cut off by Limuel.

"And yet, I would still want to have him. He'll make a very fine consort for me." Limuel said as he sat on a chair in front of the fire, not looking at the king as he gently combed his hair.

"I have spoken with my son, and he is aware that he acted most improperly to his soon-to- husband."

Limuel gave Thranduil a sidelong glance. "Tell me, king Thranduil. Will he be willing to do what his 'husband' commands of him?"

"Of course." Thranduil replied firmly.

"So you say."

Limuel put his comb down before he elegantly stood up and slowly faced Thranduil. They stared at each other for a while, Thranduil with his confused glare, and Limuel with his cold and seemingly bored stare. Neither one moved nor made a sound, only the crackling of the fire woods on the hearth could be heard. A moment of silence, then a smile slowly crept on Limuel's lips. Thranduil felt Goosebumps on his spine.

"You have a beautiful son, Thranduil, and yet it is very obvious that you and your people think otherwise. Why is that?"

If Thranduil was taken aback by the question, he did not show it. He just took a breath and released a heavy sigh, as if contemplating his answer.

"He is different. Not... male enough to look at. For an ellon he surely looks like an ellith. And it's just... disgusting."

"Disgusting? I don't think so. I think that there's more to it that this reasoning of yours," Limuel said as he slowly walked towards Thranduil, like a lion who was silently approaching its prey.

Thranduil never broke eye contact with the Saxon until they stood face to face. "What are you trying to imply?" The king asked warily.

"What I'm implying is that, I believe, that this disgust is just a way for you to hide your fears," and Limuel's smile grew into a predatory grin when Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "My dear soon-to-be father-in-law, do not think me a fool. I know you knew the moment he was born into this world, that his fate will be bound to the Saxons, and so you feared." Then Limuel slowly circled around the king, eyeing him as a predator would a prey. "And by that fear, you decided to hide your love with disgust and loathing. And to make things more convincing, you included your whole realm into this play of yours. Am I not right, my king?" Limuel stated as he stopped in front of the Thranduil, amusement written all over his face as Thranduil clenched his jaw tightly, not meeting his eyes.

"Nonsense! He is the reason why my wife died, and her death was all in vain, giving birth to a son whose beauty is that of a maiden!"

Limuel just chuckled at Thranduil's reply. The king looked sharply at the Saxon. "I think I should bid you a good night now." And with that, Thranduil quickly strode out of the chamber.

Limuel released a slow, calm sigh, before he whispered to no one in particular, "don't worry King Thranduil, I will surely take care of your precious treasure..."

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU

Legolas lay warm in Aragorn's arms, drifting off on the edge of a dream.

A dream of being Aragorn's mate.

He let himself forget that he was secretly promised to another, and that there was nothing he could do, for the sake and the safety of his home.

Images of Beithris in Aragorn's arms filled his mind. How fine a father he would be! How much he wanted he could bear him his children.

What if he was blessed by the Valars and was already with child.

The thought made him wide awake.

If so, he would keep the knowledge to himself, and press for an early wedding to Prince Limuel after Aragorn had rode home to Gondor. He would hide the loss of his virginity, as well as the true identity of the child's sire. That would be his special and most cherished secret.

Aragorn stirred beside him and Legolas gazed at the Gondorian's handsome face, and with cautious fingers, he delicately traced the outline of his strong, stubbled jaw.

He should wake him. He must not be found here with him, or seen leaving either. If that happened, questions would be asked, answers demanded, and Aragorn could learn of his betrothal.

He knew full well that Aragorn would feel deceived and betrayed if he found out that he led him to believe that he was free to become his mate.

But he could not bear to send him away just yet. A little more time in his arms, that was all he needed.

He remembered Aragorn said that he wanted to speak with his father first, and for that, he was grateful. That way, Aragorn would learn of his betrothal before he was to return to Mirkwood, and Legolas would not have to see the anger in his lover's eyes when he learned of his deceit. He would not have to destroy his love with his own words.

Aragorn stirred again, turning in his arms with a smile on his face and opening his eyes to look at Legolas with such tenderness it made the elf's heart ache anew.

"Legolas," Aragorn whispered before kissing him passionately.

Legolas nestled against Aragorn, then lifted Aragorn's hand and kissed his palm. "You should leave, Aragorn," he said with genuine regret.

Aragorn slowly shook his head. "Not yet, my love," he said before pulling Legolas to him for another fervent kiss.

It took all Legolas' effort to stop. "You must go, Aragorn, before you are discovered here," he said as firmly as he could.

"I'm not used to skulking around in shadows," Aragorn remarked, sitting up and putting his feet on the floor so that his back was to Legolas. "I am not a dishonourable rogue who takes his pleasure slyly. I would far rather declare our love to your father at once."

Legolas put his arms around Aragorn and laid his head against his naked back, feeling the man's tense frustration. "I know, but you yourself said we should be cautious. As for any dishonour, it is my fault yu are here, for I did not have the strength to send you away.

"No, legolas, I did not have the strength to leave you."

"What's done is done, Aragorn, and I will have no regrets."

"Nor I," Aragorn said. He looked back to give Legolas a wry look. "My cousin says that secrecy increases his ardour. I must say, I think he's mad. But if we must be secretive, we must."

Then sighing, Aragorn stood and looked around Legolas' little talan as he drew on his breeches. "This is very neat and tidy, Legolas. But it must have been lonely for you, too, living by yourself."

"It is," Legolas confessed, hungrily savouring this near-domestic moment as a man might his last meal on Arda.

"It _was_," Aragorn corrected. "You will never be lonely again, I promise you."

He was going to be more lonely than he had ever thought possible when Aragorn was gone. Rising, he handed him his tunic and reached for his own clothes.

Aragorn attempted to adjust his clothes, but to no avail, so Legolas went to his aid. This time, he did not rush. He allowed his fingers to caress Aragorn's taut, muscular torso.

:By Elbereth, Legolas, I do not want to leave you!" Aragorn whispered again, reaching for him, but he deftly avoided the man's grasp.

"You cannot linger here," he reminded him.

Aragron sighed ruefully, "and I used to pride myself on my self-command." He glanced down at his new garments. "I wonder what Boromir will say when I come home with these new clothes."

"He will be impressed, I'm sure."

Aragorn pulled him close. "Nor nearly as impressed as when I bring home my intended," he murmured with another tender smile. "I don't want to go."

"Aragorn, the day would be long for me, too," he whispered.

"I will see you at the hall tonight, won't I?" Aragorn asked.

"Of course.'

Legolas embraced him, loving him, drawing strength form his presence, nomatter how short-lived it must be.

"You... you had best get on your way," Legolas stammered, stepping back.

"Very well," Aragron said with obvious reluctance, and with Legolas' next words, he grew tense.

"Will you come to me again yonight?"

A moment of silence, then Aragorn pressed his lips on Legolas' hair in a gesture of farewell. "I shall come to you tonight."

Reluctantly, he let Aragorn pull away and go to the door.

Aragorn peeked outside. "We are in luck. There is a mist this morning. Until tonight, my love."

Then, with a small smile, he silently slipped away.

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU

Later that night, lying in the darkness of Legolas' talan, sweat-slicked and spent, Aragorn put his arm about Legolas to hold the elf against him.

"You did not even give me time to say hello," he murmured wryly, for the elf ambushed him the moment he entered the dwelling.

"Time is gold," Legolas replied, nuzzling the man's neck.

"Well, I must say I'm flattered," Aragorn said, brushing back a strand of golden hair from Legolas' delicate face. "No one has ever... attacked me... with zeal."

"No?"

Aragron laughed softly. "No. Trust me, I would remember. "Then his laugh grew more boisterous.

"What is it?" Legolas inquired, raising himself at his elbow to look at Aragorn. "What amuses you so?"

"Boromir would not believe me if I told him."

Legolas' brow furrowed. "Why not?" He asked.

"He claims I lack passion – I think I did, until you inspired it within me."

Legoals laid back down, and drew n=intricate designs of Aragorn's chest with his fingertips. "Tell me about your family," he asked softly.

"Legolas," Aragorn sighed, caressing the elf lazily. "I'm just but a man and tire so easily. You will meet then soon enough anyway."

"But I would know all about them before then. Please Aragron?"

Aragorn sighed again, but with patient forbearance. "What would you like to know?"

"Everything!" Legolas said eagerly.

"That would take all night."

"I can spare some of my eternity."

"But I must be rested to haggle with your father again tomorrow.

"Please, Aragorn!" He pleaded.

"Very well," Aragorn agreed, "but in exchange, you will tell me of your family's story tomorrow night. We would exchange stories alternately every night until either I've made an agreement with your father, or there is no more to tell."

"I fear my family stories won't be entertaining," he murmured.

Aragorn lifted his shoulders to lightly kiss the tip of Legolas' nose. "If you do not want to tell me, I will not force you. I have seen enough to surmise that your life has been far more difficult than it should have been. Take heart my dearest love! Those days are over now."

"Tell me about Boromir," Legolas urged with a catch on his voice Aragorn did not hear as he lay before him in the dark.

_tbc..._

__AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU

Chapter 14 up! See you next week for chapter 15. Hopefully i won't get lazy, haha. Just pray for me, okay?


	15. Chapter 15

**Authoress' note: **I think you're going to hate me for this chapter, haha. Well, I can say that this is not an exciting chapter, but I must do so for the next chapter. I hope you would all understand and bear with me. Pleeeeeease? *puppy eyes* Oh, by the way, this story is nearing its end. Are you excited? Are you excited? Haha. Sigh... I'm so happy I'm still able to write the following chapters given that I'm busy as of the moment. And it's because of you all that I'm still struggling to finish this story. Thank you all! Thank you! I love you! Viva Aragorn and Legolas! Haha.

**jemlou: **well, the worst is not yet over for these two... bwahahaha! But don't worry, I'll have mercy for the both of them, though you are right, they will still have to face some obstacles... ohhhh... thank you so much for the compliment... *batting eyelashes* that's so sweet of you. Although, I say I must lay-low for a while on this chapter in order to give way for a dramatic scene. I hope you understand...

**robinsmum: **Oh yes, this story is meant to be bitter sweet, but it's just okay right? Though, I must admit that Limuel is an ass, he's still one of my fav character in this fic. He brings out the bitterness in this story, haha. I won't get lazy, I promise.

**IchigoPudding:** Welcome, welcome, to my humble story. So glad you find it cute, in spite of the faults from my previous chapters. Please, do enjoy your stay here.

**Abby:** Okay, since I'm thrilled today, I'll tell you when Aragorn will know about the betrothal. Next chapter. But you just have to wait for it to know what will happen between the three of them, haha.

**trollalalala: **Oh... for a moment there I thought you're referring to my story... Whew... I know it's horrible at first, but I'm improving, right? Riiiight? Awww... you really hate Limuel that much? Hmmm... I think you will start to like him in later chapters.

**silmarlfan1: **It won't be that sad. It won't be *that* sad. Haha. I'll keep going.

**mistyfoxmaid: **You'll soon find out, just stay with me, okay?

Well folks, may I present to you, chapter 15. Enjoy and don't forget to leave a review!

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~ AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU

"_Anything. I will give you anything that is you ask of me."_

_ "Are you sure? Anything?"_

_ "Yes. I guess this is all I can do to repay you for your help. Saying thank you for saving my realm is not enough. What is it that you want? Gold? Jewels? I can even give you all the mithril I have. Just name it."_

_ A moment of silence that stretched so painfully long. One was contemplating, the other one was waiting. And then one of them drew breath, and releasing it with a final resolve._

_ "Very well, if you insist."_

_ The other one patiently yet somehow nervously waited for the other's response._

_ "Nothing."_

_ "Nothing?"_

_ "As of the moment. Gold, jewels, gems, and mithril... all of those I already have, and I have them in abundance, so I don't need those things. But..."_

_ "But?"_

_ A smile. A cold and knowing smile. "But I think there is something that you might yet to have that will be of interest to me. I think I shall wait for my prize. After all, good things happen to those who wait. Don't you think, Thranduil?"_

_ Thranduil furrowed his brows, confused and yet suspicious. "But of course. If that is your wish, then so be it. I shall wait for you until you deemed it time for me to fulfil my promise," he said, although, somewhere deep in his heart, he felt that he had just made the biggest mistake in his life._

_ "It's a deal then. Until our paths cross again, Thranduil. Namaarie..."_

_ "Yes. Until we meet again, Cedric."_

_It should have been one of the happiest day for the kingdom, and yet, darkness loomed within the hearts of her royals, for with the birth of her youngest price, is the impending death of her queen. And so, in the healing houses of the stone castle, the king and queen relished their remaining time together..._

_ "He's beautiful..." the queen said weakly, but still she managed to grace her face with a tender and loving smile._

_ "Aye, he is. He got your looks." The king agreed, one hand stroking the elfling's golden strands, the other holding his queen's hand firmly._

_ "Do not let them take him..."_

_ The king furrowed his brows in confusion. "What are you saying, my love?"_

_ "I do not have the strength anymore. Soon, I have to answer the call of Mandos..."_

_ "Silme..."_

_ "Thranduil, I fear for our child, and it saddens me that I will not be here to protect him," the queen paused, he breath became quick and shallow, her eyes beginning to glaze. "I fear they will take him, they will definitely take him..."_

_ "Silme..." The king choked her name, tears flowing freely from his eyes. He knew that his queen's time was near._

_ "They will come here... and will take him away..." she said raggedly. "His beauty is both... a blessing... and curse... for him... But please... let him be spared of the pain... of being separated... from those ... he love..." Then she looked down at her son who peacefully slept, and smiled lovingly at him. "Legolas..."_

_ Then she was no more._

_ Thranduil silently cried, and in his heart, he knew what his wife was trying to tell him. And a plan started to form in his mind. Yes, he would spare his son of the pain of being separated from them. And so, Legolas' miserable life started, all because of his father's lack of better judgement._

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~ AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU

So, Prince Elessar, tomorrow you will return to Gondor and tell your father what we agreed on," Thranduil said as they sat in hall to have their dinner.

"Yes. I think he will be pleased," Aragorn replied.

"He should be!" Two hundred gold pieces – you are robbing me with my eyes wide-open."

Grinning, Thranduil addressed Limuel. "Never have I had such an opponent. No arguing, just silence most of the time. Elbereth, it is a rare man who can get better of me, yet this one has!"

Limuel smiled lazily, and made a small salute with his glass to the enigmatic Gondorian.

As Limuel lifted his glass for another sip of his wine, he watched Legolas, who had decided to seat on the side of the table opposite his, swapping place with Aragorn, as he slowly nibbled on his bread.

He was really the epitome of beauty: his eyes, the colour of bright blue sky, sparkled with innocence and determination; his hair, spun of golden strands glimmered at the light, and his body, Limuel surmised, is perfect beneath the slightly loose tunic. And then there was his impertinence.

He had the hands of an archer. Limuel had not noticed it at first, but as he had spent more time in Mirkwood, he had started to notice the calluses that can only be acquired by using a bow. And the way Legolas straightened his body, definitely the stance and posture of an archer.

He was lucky indeed, to have chosen the younger prince of Mirkwood as his consort. The Mirkwood prince truly stirred his passion. He couldn't wait for the day that Legolas will share his bed. Limuel would definitely show him the true meaning of desire and pleasure.

Limuel put his glass down at the table, but never letting it go. He looked to his right and glanced at his host who was minding his own roast meat. Then he looked to his left and glanced at Gondorian Prince, who was silently eating, his face betraying nothing of what was passing to his mind.

Legolas was appointed to take care of this man while he was staying at Mirkwood for the trade agreement. More than once he wondered if the Gondorian developed an interest with his intended. But he dismissed the thought always, for neither Prince Elessar nor Legolas showed any indication that something was happening between them..

Oh well, it didn't matter anyway. Legolas was his. The prince would be the promised prize to his father from King Thranduil. His father was right indeed. Good things happen to those who wait. Good thing his father didn't make a hasty decision back then, and took his time to wait for a precious treasure to spring out. And then, he passed that prize to his eldest son for him to claim. And what a precious treasure he found in thins forest indeed.

Limuel watched Legolas as he quietly spoke with a servant who was refilling the prince's cup. Legolas smiled at the servant, and what a pleasant smile he had! Legolas suddenly arched his back a little, probably relieving an ache. The movement made his tunic tighten, unintentionally revealing a fine chest.

Limuel leaned back on his chair and meditatively swirled his remaining wine in his cup. Watching out of the corner of his eye, Limuel saw Aragorn reach for a piece of bread that coincidentally Legolas was reaching too, his hands touching Legolas'.

And linger there.

Not long, but too long not to raise a sudden suspicion in the Saxon's mind. Commanding himself to betray no sign, he raised his glass, while his attention was focused on the Gondorian and Legolas.

They say no word, and in another moment, they had moved on to mind their own business. And then Legolas excused himself, rising and leaving the hall.

Surely it could not be, Limuel told himself as he glanced at Aragorn.

Then, Thranduil's request to keep the betrothal entered his mind. Why not tell everyone? Perhaps the king had set his sights on agreement with the Gondorian Prince other than that of the trade pact. But Thranduil and he had formally agreed. That was a binding oath, as Thranduil would know.

Then what was he to make of this touch between Prince Elessar and Legolas? Could it be that they were acting in secret, making plans unknown to Thranduil?

Or perhaps he was reading too much into one touch. After all, there had been no sign of anything between Legolas and Aragorn prior to this single, simple act. And tomorrow, Prince Elessar would be gone.

Still...

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~ AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU

Legolas stood in the dark centre of his little talan, his heart aching. He thought he had known torturous moments of despair since he was told he was betrothed to Limuel, but now when he had to tell Aragorn of his betrothal to another, he truly knew anguish.

It was to be kept a secret until the trade agreement was reached, and that had happened.

He could hope that his father and Limuel would wait until Aragorn had gone back to Gondor before declaring his betrothal to Limuel, but he could not be sure they would.

Perhaps it would be a just punishment if Aragorn was to find out about his betrothal now, when he was not there to explain or defend his actions.

_If_ he could explain or defend his deception to a man of Aragorn's honourable nature.

Already tonight, Limuel had been different.

Even though they were betrothed, for the past three days Limuel had seemed to be ignoring him. Tonight, however, he felt the Saxon's gaze upon him starting from the moment he had entered the hall up until he left.

He had been afraid to look up at the opposite side of the table, in case he caught the Saxon's smouldering gaze, and yet he was desperate to know what Aragorn might make of the Saxon's behaviour.

As he waited, he tried to tell himself that whatever Aragorn thought, it didn't matter. In a short while, Aragorn would know that Limuel had every right to look at him.

Then tomorrow, Aragorn would be gone.

He went to the entrance of his talan to peer into the night, both hoping and dreading that Aragorn would be there soon.

He moaned softly as he went back inside. With trembling, and surprisingly cold fingers, he tried to light a lamp. Then he considered leaving his talan in darkness. That way, when he told Aragorn the truth, he would not have to see his face. His eyes.

But that would be the coward's way. After what they had shared, he owed Aragorn that much – to look into his eyes and tell him the truth.

He had to try to find a way to make Aragorn understand his desperation, and that he had not been able to find the strength to tell him the truth before. Once Aragorn knew that Limuel and his father had clasped hands and that the promise could not be broken, Aragorn would have refused to come near him, and he had not been able to accept that.

He hoped that Aragorn would remember that he loved him and the passion of the all-too-few nights they had shared.

The deception had not been easy for him. Every moment during their time together, hovering over him like a ringwraith on its nazgul, was the knowledge that as he lay in his arms, he was living a terrible lie, a sin of omission, for Aragorn still believed they would be married.

Once, lying awake in Aragorn's arms the man had slumbered, he had dared to consider that an alliance with Gondor would bring help for his people.

That had been a momentary fantasy. Although the royal family of Gondor had such a strong alliance with the other elven realms, particularly with Imladris, they would not be able to defend Mirkwood if The Saxons launched a vengeful attack. The distance of their kingdom would surely make sure of that. And would they be willing to risk their lives for Mirkwood? A kingdom that had no strong friendship with them or what so ever.

No. In his mind, he knew he could harbour no such foolish hopes.

Now, sitting on his bed, he laid his head on his knees and sighed with despair. What was he going to do?

Then he thought of Beithris ripped from her mother's arms by one of the Saxons, her brains dashed out on the cold ground. The other elves sharing that horrible fate. Mirkwood looted and burned.

Aragorn said he loved him. Maybe he would understand.

"Please, Eru, when I tell him, don't let him hate me!" He murmured, voicing his greatest fear in a fervent prayer.

The door of his talan opened and he rose, clasping his hands.

Then he stared as Limuel sauntered into his house.

_Tbc..._

AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~ AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU~AU

Chapter 15 up! See you next week! ;)


	16. Chapter 16

**Authoress' note: **Actually... I don't know what to say... I'm at lost for what to say, haha. Sorry. Anyway, my heart sings whenever I read your reviews my dear readers. I'm so happy you like this story. *sniff* *sniff* And as I said, here's the heart breaking chapter I promised in exchange of the short chapter I uploaded last time. I hope you will feel the hurt and anguish of the characters for this week's story. I, honestly, am so proud for this chapter. I don't know... I just feel like you're going to enjoy this chapter so much you will want to strangle me to death... which, too bad, you can't. Nyahaha! Please, please, do read and leave a review. Enjoy!

**Silmarlfan1:** Hmmm... I'll think about it... I can't promise you anything... Hmmm...

**Jemlou: **Awww... really? You still enjoyed this chapter even if, in my opinion, it is boring? I'm so happy. :D Oh, and don't worry... I like the praises... please, please, do continue... haha. Just kidding. Yes, I agree that it will be sad to see this story end, but I'll make sure to give you a not that, _that, _depressing ending... *evil laugh*

**Robinsmum: **Haha, poor Limuel... It seems that everybody hates him. Let's see if you will still hate him at the end of the story.

**Trollalalala: **Oh, there really is a cliffie there. My, my, I'm quiet surprised. Haha. Poor Limuel. Now, now, Are you really sure you want to kill him? Won't you feel any pity for him? Hmmm?

**LordOfTheRings:** Well... I have to make Thranduil like that, it goes with the story. But if you read the following chapters, you will understand why I made Thranduil's opinion of Legolas like that.

**Lugga: **Welcome to the pack! Woohoo! I'm so glad you love it. Here's the next chapter.

I won't take so much of your time anymore. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, Chapter 16?

**Disclaimer: **I do not own LOTR. Story is completely based on Margaret Moore's A Warrior's Passion.

"So, this is where you have gone to leave," Limuel said as he entered.

With his hands on his hips, his body seemed to fill Legolas' talan completely as he slowly turned and surveyed his surroundings. "Small but neat. Impressive," Limuel remarked, apparently impressed.

"What do you want?" Legolas demanded, both annoyed and upset by Limuel's unexpected arrival.

"I want to speak with you," Limuel said, stepping nearer to Legolas.

Not wanting to be any closer to the Saxon than he already was, Legolas moved back until the back of his legs struck his narrow bed. "Then speak or, as I would rather, leave at once."

"Surely there is no need for a harsh tone," Limuel said, spreading his arms wide in a gesture of request. "I am a guest of your father's"

"I know that," Legolas replied warily. "And I also know that it is unseemly of you to be here alone with me."

"Your scruples prove you are an honourable elf," Limuel answered. "And I can appreciate that. But you have nothing to fear from me." He made a sardonic smile. "Rather, it is I who should be afraid that you might pour something over my head."

Legolas could tell the Saxon thought that he was being charming; But Limuel was far too close for his comfort. "You deserved that."

"For what?"

"For being rude. Now please leave!" Legolas pointed imperiously at the door.

Limuel frowned. "Perhaps you are forgetting who I am."

"I know full well who and what you are," Legolas said with a small measure of the scorn he felt, fighting not to reveal how he truly felt about this elf he must marry.

"I think you should not be so unfriendly," Limuel commanded, grabbing Legolas by the shoulders and tugging him into his arms. "After all, your father will not mind that I am here," he murmured hoarsely as he lowered his head to kiss Legolas.

"But I do!" Legolas snapped, forcefully twisting free and glaring at Limuel, too angry now to care if he offended him or not. "There will come a time when I have to submit to your embrace, but it is not now!"

Limuel's eyes narrow. "So you know about the betrothal. I thought your father wasn't going to tell you."

"Then it would have been even more wrong for you to come here, "Legolas retorted.

Limuel actually pouted. "I thought only to –"

"Seduce me? Could you not wait for the wedding?" Legolas demanded sarcastically. "You find me that attractive? I am flattered, my lord."

"I thought to make peace with you," Limuel declared.

"Go then, or there will be no hope of that."

"I was thinking that it does not have to be so very bad."

"You do not want me. I do not want you."

"I think it is very obvious that I _want_ you. You could come to want me; I will make you a good husband."

Legolas almost, _almost_, felt sorry for him then, because he knew that what he thought possible could never be.

"Perhaps," Legolas replied, but his tone was not a hopeful one.

Limuel regarded Legolas sullenly. "May I remind you that you have little choice in this, Legolas? It is your responsibility to honour the agreement between our realms."

"And it now comes down to duty, honour and responsibility! Why don't you just go now and look for someone who is willing to have your company."

Limuel shrugged his shoulders. "If you would like. There are many of those who throw themselves at my feet, begging me to take them. So what of that?"

Legolas' lip curled. "Then go to them now, while you can."

"I will go to them whenever I like, whether I am married to you or not."

"So that is your idea of honourable marriage? I am glad you have forewarned me. Very well, go to them. Eru knows we will be forced to spend enough time together in the years to come. Now I will take what solitude I can."

A new look came to Limuel's face. "You would send me into the arms of another? Why?"

"Why not? I do not love you."

Suddenly, Limuel looked like being challenged to do battle.

As Legolas realized that he might have made Limuel suspect there was another he cared for, the Saxon crossed the space between them and pulled Legolas again to his unwelcomed embrace. Limuel's mouth crashed in his in a hot, wet kiss and his hand fondled the other elf roughly.

Legolas shoved him away with a force that surprised Limuel. "Get out!" He cried, pointing at the door. "And if you have any hope of happiness when we are wed, you will do as I say at once!"

"Legolas," Limuel growled, glaring at him and making no move to go. "I do not take orders from you."

"Oh really? Legolas demanded angrily. "Well, guess what? Nor do me!"

Limuel still didn't move. Instead, a sardonic smile spread over his face. "My, my. Aren't you a bit lively?"

"Get out!"

Limuel slowly shook his head. "We are to be married, Legolas," he said. "And I believe I had made a good choice in choosing you."

He took a step toward Legolas, who snatched up a stick from somewhere nearby. Legolas felt stupid for hiding his weapon earlier. Even if it was just under the bed, Limuel would surely be able to stop him ere he managed to crouch to retrieve it. Now the stick would have to do. "Leave me alone!"

"Legolas, Legolas," Limuel murmured. "There is no need for this. Do you not see that you could enjoy being my mate? Trust me, you would be grateful."

"I will strike you if you come closer!"

` Limuel's low, deep lustful chuckle seemed to fill the small dwelling. Then he lunged for Legolas, dragging him into his arms, forcing his lips over him, stifling his very breath.

Desperate to escape, Legolas flailed at him. But Limuel caught his hand that was holding the stick, twisting his wrist so that he let go of it. Legolas resorted to his bare fists.

To no avail, for the Saxon was taller, broader, and stronger than he. Ignoring Legolas' struggles, Limuel continued to kiss him as he dragged him backward toward his bed.

Legolas cried out when Limuel threw him down upon it, then scrambled away.

"Oh no, you don't," Limuel cried, and laughter was in his voice as he seized Legolas' hair and yanking him to stop.

Legolas' eyes got wet due to the sudden pain, and then he whipped around. "This is no game!"

Limuel took hold of his shoulders, hurting him, the Saxon's bright blue eyes staring down at him.

"No it isn't," Limuel snarled. "This is a battle that I intend to win, Legolas. You can enjoy it, or not. It's up to you.

Legolas spit in his face, and then ducked his head to avoid the blow of Limuel's fist.

Which did not come, because Aragorn had gripped Limuel's hand, and with a savage force, was bending it behind the Saxon's back.

Enraged beyond any anger he had ever felt before, Aragorn continued to twist the arm of the elf who dared to attack Legolas.

With a roar, Limuel shook himself free of Aragorn's grasp and shoved Aragorn back against the nearby wall. As he did, Limuel simultaneously drew a dagger and faced his opponent.

Aragorn crouched defensively. Legolas saw, with increasing dismay, that he had no weapon.

"You bastard, you will dare hurt me?" Limuel growled.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Aragorn replied grimly. "I'm going to kill you."

"Aragorn!" Legolas cried, fearful that one of them would be seriously injured or even killed. Then he hurriedly ran to his bed, knelt beside it and took something under it.

Limuel lunged for Aragorn, who slipped past him, catching the knife Legolas threw at his direction.

"Go, Legolas!" Aragorn commanded, not taking his gaze from Limuel for a moment.

"No! Stop this!"

Distracted, Aragorn glanced at him, giving Limuel a brief opportunity to strike. He charged at Aragorn, who parried Limuel's upraised dagger. The force of the Saxon's momentum was much that he crashed through the door, taking it with him.

Aragorn dashed after Limuel.

"Aragorn, no!" Legolas shouted, following them down into the darkness.

The moon shone through the clouds, illuminating the two fighters, parrying on the rocky ground. They kept on exchanging blows until both of them lost hold of their blades and resorted to bare hands.

"I never knew," Aragorn said through clenched teeth, "that an elf of your kind is capable of raping."

"And I never knew that your kind is capable of fighting, other than to sing – and surrender!" Limuel snarled.

Legolas didn't know what to do, or how to stop them.

"You'd better pray to whoever Valar you will," Aragorn growled. "You are fighting with me now!"

"I have no need of help with the likes of you!"

Aragorn managed to break from Limuel's hold of him then tackled the Saxon to the ground, landing on his opponent with a heavy thud, Limuel roared with anger and struggled.

By now, the sounds of altercation had reached the attention of the guards and they hurriedly went to the clearing to see what the commotion is all about.

Now there could be no secret resolution to this, no quiet admission, no sorrow to be shared with Aragorn alone.

But no matter what happened, Legolas vowed with wretched resolution, Aragorn would hear of his deception from ho lips but his.

Legolas swiftly climbed up to his talan and retrieved his bow and arrows, and as he sure-footedly dropped back to the ground again, he expertly notched an arrow to the string and fired a warning shot at the two. The arrow flew between Aragorn's and Limuel's faces, hitting a nearby tree with a loud thud. Both fighters, surprised, turned at Legolas, who notched another arrow on his bow with a determined expression on his face. It was clear to the two that he was prepared to strike either or both of them if needed be.

"What is the meaning of this?" Thranduil's voice boomed throughout the clearing. He took in the scene before him as the two combatants staggered to their feet. The king's gaze stopped at Legolas, who had an arrow ready to be launched.

"That elf was attacking your son," Aragorn growled, glaring at Limuel with naked hate.

"Isn't it the other way around?"

Thranduil's eyes widened. "Are you two coming to blows over _Legolas_?" He asked incredulously.

"Why not?" Legolas demanded, lowering his weapon. "Why not me?"

Thranduil turned to look at him, clearly taken aback.

"Not all find me ugly." He said as he came to stand before his father. "Some can bear to look at me with favour. I can even be loved!"

His father narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying?"

"Father..." Legolas started but could not continue. He swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in his throat, keeping his gaze on his father, because he could not bring himself to look at Aragorn.

Thranduil glanced at Aragorn, then at Limuel, too.

"Legolas, don't tell me..."

Legolas took a deep breath, and released it as he fastened his gaze over his lover, willing him to see his anguish, hoping he would understand. He confessed, his voice eerily calm now that the end of his brief interlude of happiness had come. "I am betrothed to Limuel."

Aragorn stared at him with shocked belief, for once his face showing fully how he felt.

"It is true," Legolas confirmed softly.

Aragorn's expression changed to something hard and forbidding and terrible. Then slowly he turned away from Legolas.

"You son is pledged to Limuel?" He asked of Thranduil in a voice that was as chilly as the snow in winter.

"What is it to you?" Limuel demanded. His eyes narrowed with wrathful suspicion as he glared at the man. "Why did _you_ come to Legolas' talan? If I have a little right to do so, you have _none_."

Thranduil frowned and scrutinized the Gondorian. "After all your talk of honour and your duty as my guest, have you taken advantage of my son?"

Aragorn turned his cold gaze onto Legolas. "Have I talan advantage of you, Legolas?" He asked in a bloodless tone that made Legolas shiver.

Legolas shook his head. "No."

Thranduil then faced his son. "Have you been with his man?"

Everything suddenly became silent. He should now decide the fate of all here.

Aragorn regarded him steadily, his face an enigmatic mask. Limuel stared at him, his eyes full of anger. His father looked at him – and in his eyes, he saw something he had never seen before.

He was silently pleading with him – and sympathizing with him. The alliance with Limuel was so important. For once, _he_ was important.

"I have never been with Prince Elessar."

With an aching heart. Legolas looked at Aragorn, who did not so much as glance at him.

Why would he? He was a liar, a deceiver, an immoral elf. Surely he was less than nothing to him now.

His father sighed with relief. Then Limuel turned toward the stone-faced Gondorian. :Is that true?" He demanded.

"Do you doubt the words of your betrothed?" Aragorn asked in that same horrible, cold tone.

Limuel regarded him coldly. "No."

"When was this betrothal made?"

"Why?" Thranduil demanded. "Does it concern you, Prince Ekessar?"

"No," Aragorn concurred. "But I believe there was no need for any secrecy about your son's betrothal\."

Thranduil didn't answer, but relaxed a little.

"I wish to ride back to Gondor at first light, if that was possible," Aragorn continued.

"Of course," King Thranduil answered.

Aragorn nodded once. "Good." Then he turned his gaze to Limuel. "The next time you visit your betrothed,: he remarked, "I suggest you be more quiet, lest others might think he does not welcome your presence. If you will excuse me." Still without a glance, he turned on his heel and marched away.

Out of Legolas' life forever. No doubt silently cursing and hating him.

"I am glad this was only a misunderstanding," Limuel said. "I think I should also retire to my room now." He nodded at Thranduil, and then at Legolas.

Limuel strode toward the direction of the palace, and Legolas was glad to see the back of him.

He knew he would always be glad to see the back of him.

"What are you still doing here?" His father bellowed to the standing guards. "Go back to your posts!" And they did.

Before Legolas could leave, his father took hold of his arm and pulled him close. "Are you telling the truth? Are you untouched still?"

Legolas looked at him, feeling nothing for him at all anymore. Dead inside. "Yes," he said, the lie coming easily.

The expression on Thranduil's face and the words that followed surprised Legolas greatly.

"I'm sorry, Legolas. I'm so sorry, my son," he said, then he walked off into the night.

Leaving Legolas alone in the darkness.

While walking towards the palace, Aragorn's back was straight and hid head high like a valiant warrior marching into battle.

But by the time he was near his quarters, his steos slowed down. And once inside, he stumbled across the room as if he had received a mortal blow.

_The end..._

_Just kidding. To be continued. Haha._


	17. Chapter 17

**AUTHORESS WARNING: **Yes, it's a warning. Be forewarned, that in this chapter, there will be a major change in character's behaviour. Well, it goes with the story, and I'm being lazy, so you have no choice but to bear with me... Nyahahaha! Honestly, there really will be an attitude change in one of my characters, and it may surprise you, so I am already warning you beforehand. Please don't be mad, I really like that character, so I really want to improve his role in the hopes of you loving him as much as I do. *Wink* *Wink* Actually, I'm not quiet confident with this chapter, so I won't hold it against you if you will not like it. *bats eyelashes* I love you guys, I love you so much. :D

**Random Guest: **I don't want to. It's a slash and will remain as that. Nyahahaha!

**Robinsmum: **Oh, thank you, thank you. I myself was quiet fascinated by the short fighting scene. *ducked a flying tin can* Worry not, my dear, those dark days are nearing its end. And I believe that it will start in this chapter.

**Silmarlfan1: **Okay, okay, fine. I'll just marry Limuel myself, haha. Oh darling, you're going to love Limuel soon.

**Aralas:** My dear! I missed you! I thought you already forgot about me. :D Oh I'm so glad you liked my recent chapters. I hope you'll like this one too.

**Csiwannabe99: **Well, to tell you honestly, I have no intention to include them anywhere in this story... because I'm too lazy, haha. I'm so sorry my dear. But to answer your question, let's just assume that Legolas' brothers have no choice in the matter. So, even though they don't really hate him, they must make him fell as if they do.

**Trollalalala: **Yes, that was truly heartbreaking. But my heart will be broken too if I kill Limuel, so, no. I won't kill him. I love the elf! Haha. I have other plans for him, so he must not die.

**Lugga: **Yes! You got my joke! Woohooh! Only you have mentioned it so far. I love you! I know it's corny but, hey, I got you on that one. Haha.

**K.J. Moon: **I'm glad you like my first attempt of slash. I used to be like that, repulsive of this kind of story. Then one time, I tried to read one, and I liked it, then the rest is history, haha. I warn you, sometimes, it just starts from being mild addiction, and then it will become total addiction. Well, good luck to you mate!

Yeah, I know I updated quiet late. Well, what can I do? Something went wrong with my laptop. I thought I won't be able to upload this week's chapter. Good thing luck smiled on me later this day. Well, fellows, here the 17th chapter of my story. Enjoy!

**DIisclaimer: **I don't own LOTR. Story is completely based on Margaret Moore's A Warrior's Passion.

King Arathorn II threw himself in his soft chair beside the hearth in his chamber at Gondor and frowned petulantly at his wife. She glanced up from her embroidery to regard her one-eyed, black-haired husband, and then returned her attention to her work.

"I don't understand him," the king muttered.

"Who?" Queen Gilraen asked calmly, moving the frame a little closer to her knees.

"Your son."

"Yours, too," she remarked with the merest hint of a smile.

"More yours than mine when it comes to his silence," the king replied. "Ai Eru, he's been quiet as a sleeping ent since he got back from Mirkwood, and it's been weeks!"

"He's never been one for a lot of talk."

"Come Gilraen!" Her husband cried. "You can't tell me you don't think he's quieter than usual, even for him."

Gilraen sighed and stopped her work, looking at her husband with her usual serenity, and with maternal concern in her eyes. "Yes, he is."

"Did he say anything to you about what happened there? All he told me is the terms of the agreement. Two hundred gold pieces for the spider silk is more than acceptable. I assured him time and again I'm pleased with the agreement."

"Aragorn has said nothing to me," his wife said. She sighed softly. "I thought it best until he wishes to tell us what is disturbing him. He has never been one to parade his troubles, and he is a grown man, you know, Arathorn."

"Then you think something _is_ worrying him?"

Gilraen nodded. "Yes."

"If he doesn't say something soon, I will demand what happened in Mirkwood!"

"Then he might never tell you."

"Then I have no choice but to spank him butt-naked!"

Gilraen rolled her eyes. "Tell me, my love, was there never a time when you moped about?"

"No!"

"Not ever?" She pressed, a quizzical twinkle in her eyes.

A look of sudden understanding dawned on the king's face. "You think he -?"

"I could only guess."

Arathorn jumped to his feet. "Ai Illuvatar! Why doesn't he say there's a woman and brig her home? He's no boy to be mooning over a girl! If he wants to marry, he should marry. Indeed it's high time he did." He grew serious again when he saw his wife's face. "What's the matter?"

If all were well, if there was nothing to prevent a marriage, do you honestly think Aragorn would 'moon' over a woman? And maybe it is not a woman, but an _ellon_."

Arathorn himself to his chair again. "That could be. But even if it's an ellon, I would not object. _We_ would not object. Our people _cannot_ object. Why make himself miserable?"

"Maybe the parents disagree?"

"It cannot be. Anybody would be proud to have Aragorn for a son-in-law."

"There speaks a father," Gilraen observed wryly. "Still, parents are not always reasonable when it comes to their children."

"Then why does Aragorn come to me? I could speak to the –"

Gilraen reached out to touch her impetuous husband gently on the arm. "If he does not ask for your help, don't interfere, Arathorn. As difficult as it is, we must let Aragorn find his own way in this."

The king nodded and sighed, then got determined gleam in his eye. "The merchants from Mirkwood are due in few days. When they arrive, I believe I shall make a few inquiries."

"I don't think Aragorn would appreciate anyone prying into his affairs."

"What prying?" Arathorn replied with an innocent tone. "I assure you, my love," he said laying a hand to his chest. "I shall be discretion itself."

Legolas found himself standing again at the stone wall, peering through the gap, looking at the thick forest below, in his hands he held Aragorn's brooch close to his heart.

This was where he had watched his father's guards rode away towards the borders of Mirkwood. Alone, keeping his gaze steadily upon the retreating back of Aragorn, he had forced himself to witness the departure of the one man who had ever loved him, and whom he would ever love.

The man he had deceived.

But Aragorn had left the brooch. When he had gone to Aragorn's quarters afterward, he had found it lying on the bed, as if deliberately left behind.

Uncertain, he had picked it up – and known at once that he could never bear to part with it.

It had been many days since then, yet the pain of his broken heart and lost love had not diminished. He feared it never would.

He glanced down at the forest below him, but the pain in his heart made him fail to appreciate the beauty of the trees.

What if he fades? What would happen then?

All his pain would be over.

Another wave of nausea assailed him and put his hand over his stomach, guessing what blossomed there.

Despite the danger, he hoped he was right. He wanted his illness to be because he bore a child. _Aragorn's_ child.

A child to whom he would give the symbolic brooch and tell the tale of Numenor, as he knew Aragorn would, if only he was given the chance. Because of this child, he would live and find a way to survive. Despite the desolate ache in his heart, in the hope that one day, the love for his baby would lessen his agony.

He heard a sound behind him, and as he hid the brooch inside his pocket, he turned to find Limuel watching him, an unreadable look on his face.

He was going to be married to him in two days. Only two days.

"What are you doing here?" Limuel demanded. "It is not safe to be so close to the edge of the cliff."

"I often came here to think," Legolas said truthfully.

Limuel continued to gaze at him. "You prefer to be alone?"

Legolas forced himself to smile. "Yes, I like to be alone."

Limuel held out his hand. "Come," he said softly.

Legolas took the offered hand, and slowly moved toward him.

"What do you want from me, my lord?" Legolas asked.

Since Aragorn had gone, he had been the dutiful son and polite betrothed. Mercifully Limuel had made no further attempts to get near him beyond necessity. Legolas had accepted his fate with resignation and determination to do what he must for the people.

Limuel studied him for a moment. "He liked you, didn't he?" Limuel asked, with apparent jealousy and condemnation.

Legolas knew who he meant. Ever since Aragorn had left him forever, he had noticed Limuel occasionally looking at him as if trying to decide if he had lied about their relationship. He would probably always suspect him of unfaithfulness.

He might also suspect that the child he bore was Aragorn's, not his. Yet he would never be able to know for certain, for a baby could be conceived on a wedding night and arrive early. And given that the baby would take after him, not Aragorn.

Silently, Legolas repeated his resolute vow. He would never ever let Limuel know for a certainty that he bore Aragorn's child. He would lie for the rest of his life about that, and he would keep his un-diminishing love for Aragorn another secret, locked away in his heart until the day he would leave the shores of Middle Earth.

He could do it. Had he not deceived the man he loved? Was he not a master of deception now?

And if Limuel tried to condemn his child because of what he suspected _he_ had done, he would stand between them with fierceness of a mother bear protecting its cub.

Now, however, he didn't want to talk about Aragorn with anyone, let alone the elf whose very existence made his marriage to the man he loved an impossibility. "I don't know what you mean, my lord."

"I speak of Prince Elessar, of course. He came to your dwelling that night."

"He gave you an explanation," he countered evenly, grateful that Aragorn had deflected suspicion without resorting to a lie, as he himself had done.

"Legolas..." Limuel started, and then closed his eyes. "I ask for your forgiveness for my hasty actions then.

"You have it."

"I mean it," Limuel continued in a reasonable tone. "Even though I know you don't care for me, I do care for you. I just want you to know that. And I'm smart enough to know that you will be unhappy with this marriage."

"My father already made an agreement with you, and it cannot be broken."

Suddenly, Limuel gathered him in his arms. The Saxon held him firmly, yet not tightly. Legolas flinched at the sudden action, though he relaxed eventually when Limuel didn't made any more move other than just to embrace him. They remained like that for a while, until Limuel broke the silence.

"If there was a way to break this betrothal, would you agree?" He asked.

Legolas' eyes widened, and he abruptly pulled away a little and looked up to meet the Saxon in the eye. Though he was surprised by Limuel's question, he still tried not to feel any hope, only to be disappointed afterwards. "You have clasped hands with my father."

"That is so."

"Then the bargain _cannot_ be honourably broken."

"Then maybe it can broken in a dishonourable way."

Legolas then pushed him away, anger suddenly rising in his heart. He had given up his chance for happiness rather than betray his father's word. "My people will be at risk if the betrothal is broken."

Limuel stared at him before looking up at the sky through the gap. "Your selflessness does you credit, Legolas, but there is no need to martyr yourself."

"If I don't marry you, Prince Limuel, I know what you will do to my home," Legolas countered fiercely. "You might think of it as father's betrayal in his promise."

"We might," Limuel replied. "But what do the lives of a few others matter compared to your own happiness.

It was all he could do to look at him now. "I will not have anyone suffer because of me," he said firmly. Then he lowered his gaze, finding the ground suddenly interesting, and when he spoke again, his voice was low. "Why are you saying this? No matter how you contrive to break the betrothal, my father will think it is my fault. I will suffer for it. Maybe he'll send me somewhere to live out my days in loneliness. Maybe he'll marry me to someone else. Maybe he'll cast me out to fend for myself. Can you imagine my fate then?"

Legolas still had a lot of things to say to Limuel, but when he looked up, he was rendered speechless. Soft lips covered his in a gentle kiss, so unlike the first kiss they had shared back then on that fateful night. Then Limuel broke the kiss, rested his brow on Legolas', and looked deeply into his eyes, his usual cold blue eyes was warm with so many emotions. "I love you..."

"Limuel..."

"And I was hoping that you would come to love me too..."

Legolas doesn't know what to say, his heart pounding hard inside his chest. He wanted to look away, but those gentle yet intense eyes would not permit it. Despite all the things that Limuel had done in the past that made him loathe the elf, Legolas could not deny that he was telling the truth, those eyes were telling him the truth. Limuel indeed loved him.

Limuel's thumb softly drew circles on Legolas' cheek, caressing it softly. "This is the first time I felt like this, and I don't know how to deal with it. So I try to do what I do best: to take." Then Limuel smiled. Not the cold, insulting smile, but a true gentle smile. Legolas saw not the taunting elf that ruined his happiness, but a handsome noble, elven prince, and he thought, maybe, just maybe, if they had met at a different circumstance, and given that he hadn't met Aragorn, he might fall for this elf too.

"I'll make you happy, Legolas. I promise I'll make you happy." And with that, he gave Legolas one more lingering kiss, and then he walked away.

Legolas watched his retreating form, and when he was out of sight, he turned back to look at the trees, not quiet comprehending what had just happened.

Torn from his restless sleep, Legolas opened his eyes when he heard some the sound of something being dragged on the floor and felt someone seating beside his bed.

He turned to see who it was, and found his father staring at him.

"Yes, father?" He asked, rubbing his eyes and wondering what had brought him here so early, and with furrowed brows.

"What happened?" Thranduil asked.

Legolas sat up and looked at his father with confusion. "I... I don't understand..."

"He's gone."

"Who?"

"Prince Limuel. He had gone last night. He just suddenly showed up outside my chamber in the middle of the night and said without so much of a preamble that he was leaving, and he will no longer take you with him." Thranduil eyed him suspiciously. "Did something happen between the two of you? Thranduil asked. "Did he say anything to you?"

Legolas opened his mouth to tell his father about their recent conversation at the wall, but was forced to close it again as a wave of nausea assailed him. He put a hand on his mouth to stop the exit of his last night's dinner, then brought the hand down on his stomach to rub it, trying to ease its distress. Then his thoughts went back to Limuel and what the elf had done. Limuel had not told him exactly what he planned.

"Is that it?" Thranduil suddenly asked, horrified as he looked at Legolas' round, albeit just small, stomach. "You have lain with someone? He left you because you bear another's child? Whose?"

Legolas raised his chin, not sorry that he bore Aragorn's child. For that, he would never be sorry. "What would you say if I told you the child was Limuel's?"

"Why would he leave if that is so?" Thranduil demanded.

"I have no idea. Perhaps he suddenly realized that he doesn't want to marry me anymore."

"He's the one who suggested that, it's impossible he'll turn his back on that."

Legolas recalled their last conversation. Maybe this was what Limuel meant. He would make him happy. He left. He would no longer force him to marry him. He was letting him go. His heart sang with joy, which was just as quickly replaced with dismay. After giving up his hope of happiness, after making the man he loved hate him, after driving Aragorn away, he had been abandoned.

Again.

Legolas' lips trembled, and his voice shook as he spoke. "He told me he'll make me happy. Father, I believe Limuel left believing it is for the better." Then his shoulders slumped down, and he bowed his head. "What of me, now, father?" He asked softly.

Thranduil's face darkened. "Limuel has acted most shamefully, seducing and abandoning you. He made you pregnant, he _must_ marry you!" He said firmly and angrily.

Then, despite his dismay, Legolas straightened his shoulders and looked at his father determinedly.

"I do not bear Limuel's child."

_tbc..._


	18. Chapter 18

**AUTHORESS' NOTE: **Haiya! And I'm still alive! Too much blood! I lost too much blood, and more are still dripping from my nose! Haha. Well folks, I almost, almost, fail uploading this chap. Whew. Thank God from heavens above! Oh, by the way, although it was not in my initial plan, in the end, I decided to include Glorfindel in this story. Hmmm... just a short appearance. Okay?

**DifferentHeart:** Oh yes, I love surprises, as well as sudden changes, haha. Cliff hanger? I don't know what you're talking about. *shuffling feet innocently*

**Aralas:** Yes, Limuel is good. Actually his better. As a matter of fact, he's the best. Haha. So many questions, so many questions my dear. And all those questions will be answered by this chapter... and the next of course.

**Trollalalala:** See? SEE? I told ya you're going to like him. SEE?

**Robinsmum: ** Ha! With Limuel, you'll always be surprised! Don't worry, I won't make them suffer anymore... yet. The story is nearing it's end, so I'll just put a little drama before I totally close the curtain. And aren't they cuuuuuute? Arathorn and Gilraen?

**Silmarlfan1: **Sad? Oh, no. It's not my intention to make Aragorn sad... I want him to be MISERABLE! Haha, peace. ^^v

**Random Guest: **Okay, bye! Take care! Hugs and kisses!

**MDarKspIrIt: **And there's more! Yeah!

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own LOTR. Story is completely based on Margaret Moore's A Warrior's Passion.

Enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun and leaning against the armoury wall of the castle of Minas Tirith, Boromir meditatively chewed on a piece of straw as he watched Aragorn battle with Glorfindel. The golden elf, who used to be Aragorn's mentor during his stay at Rivendell, decided to visit the royal family of Gondor and arrived two days after Aragorn. Aragorn invited Glorfindel for sparring match of which the elf joyfully accepted. They had been swinging blades at each other ever since breaking the fast, and Boromir was quiet calmly wondering how long Aragorn could keep up with the obviously not yet tired elven warrior.

Boromir was not the only one, for several of the castle servants glanced curiously at the sword-wielding son of their king and his opponent as they went about their business. When they came through the courtyard again and found him still swinging blades with Glorfindel, they shook their heads in wonderment.

Finally, with the sweat dripping from their half-naked body, their damp hair plastered to their head and Aragorn's shoulders slumped with exhaustion, they stopped to rest. Glorfindel reached for a ladle of water from a nearby bucket, drinking to his fill, then scooping some more and passing it to Aragorn. Aragorn gratefully accepted the water, drinking some and pouring the rest over his head.

Boromir uncrossed his ankles and pushed himself away from the wall. He sauntered towards the two, shaking his head, apparently with profound sadness.

"You are trying to kill yourself, then?" Boromir suddenly said, looking at Aragorn.

Aragorn reached for his tunic and wiped the back of his perspiring neck with it. "No."

Boromir took the straw from his mouth and tossed it aside. "Then what?"

Aragorn drew his tunic over his head and didn't respond, which wasn't unusual, even if it was frustrating.

"Your parents are worried about you," Glorfindel observed, slipping his own tunic.

"They should not be."

"Well, they are. What happened in Mirkwood?" Boromir asked.

Aragorn reached for the ladle again. "Nothing that concerns anybody."

"I know when you are lying, Estel," Glorfindel chided in. "They say ever since you've come home, you've acted like you've got burr up your backside."

Aragorn didn't even frown before he took a drink, while Boromir kept on observing him intensely, looking for some reaction or whatsoever.

"I know!" He cried. "The poor man is lovesick! Who is it? Who is it?"

Aragorn's eyes narrowed in a savage expression.

"Shut your mouth, Boromir, or I'll shut it for you!" Aragorn growled, so fiercely that for the first time in his life, Boromir was actually afraid of Aragorn.

Too stunned to speak, Boromir and Glorfindel could only stare as Aragorn turned on his heel and marched grimly across the courtyard and into the barracks.

"I think you guessed right," Glorfindel said, tapping Boromir at the shoulder. "I guess Aragorn was upset over someone. What else would make a man act this way but love?"

Boromir glanced upward. "Had the sun stopped rising in the east, too, then?"

Glorfindel chuckled at that. Boromir then lowered his head and put his thumb and forefinger beneath his chin, searching his memory.

"I can't remember any woman Aragorn had paid particular attention to. There had been none in the days before he left for Mirkwood. The last had been Lady Arwen."

"And it didn't go well. I'll wager it's not an elleth," Glorfindel stated confidently.

Boromir abruptly turned his head to look at Glorfindel, eyes wide and jaw hanging. "An ellon then? How came you with that conclusion?"

Glorfindel smirked smugly. "Since his return from Mirkwood, Aragorn had kept completely to himself, rarely left the castle, dined in the hall then retired at once, and never accepted our offer to visit the tavern. Never, I mean, never he became like that over a woman."

"But that doesn't justify him liking an ellon!" Boromir defended.

"Boromir, Boromir. I've known Aragorn since he was an impling. I helped raise him, remember? I'm telling you, even if he did have an affair with Arwen, I know his preference doesn't lie with the opposite sex. He just doesn't know it, at least before he went to Mirkwood."

Boromir seemed to ponder at Glorfindel's words, and then he let out a low whistle. Glorfindel might be right. It must have been an ellon if it made Aragorn this touchy. Then he grinned. He would like to see the ellon who could win grim Aragorn's heart.

A cry came from the watch tower. That call meant that there was a herald approaching.

A group of merchants from Mirkwood was due any day, Boromir realized.

His grin changed, and when he looked at Glorfindel, he saw the same cunning smile he had on the Elda's face. Oh, they would make a little visit with their wood elves visitors and see if they could learn something about Mirkwood.

And the ellon who lived there.

Ignoring everyone, Aragorn strode into the castle. He continued toward his chambers, which was at the far end of the hall. He wanted to be alone. He didn't want to see the curious looks, the questioning eyes.

He threw his sword on his bed, and then stared at it, unseeing. If he really wanted his inner turmoil to be a secret, he would act as if nothing were the matter.

But he could not. For once, he could not hide his anger and dismay, or his deep unhappiness that he had been deceived and lied in actions if not in words and made to feel like the lowest, dishonourable cur who broke the bonds of hospitality to seduce his host's son.

That his pure love and honourable hopes had been polluted because Legolas did not tell him he already belonged to another by his father's pledge, if not his own heart.

Had Legolas told him, he would have kept himself away from him, even if it was difficult. He would have honoured the betrothal, if Legolas would not, even when he knew Legolas reciprocated his desire. His passion. His love.

He sat heavily on his bed, his head on his hands.

Why must he feel this way for someone he could never have? Why must he devotedly love and want an elf that was unattainable?

He blinked back hot tears that no man should ever shed, his sadness again threatening to overwhelm his control.

He had been too weak and too conscious, thinking he should talk to his father first. He should have gone to Thranduil a once and ask for Legolas' hand.

He should have been an honourable man and respected Legolas and his honour. He should have waited until they were bound before sharing his bed.

Legolas had shown him that he was not as ethical and pure and strong as he had believed to be, and for that, he should never want to see the elf again.

But he did. Always, he thought of going back to Mirkwood just for a glimpse of Legolas. Always, he struggled not to go to Thranduil and reveal that he loved Legolas still and wanted him for his mate.

But Legolas belonged to another, he reminded himself.

Why had Legolas deceived him? Only to share his bed? He was not so vain as to believe that.

Why else? He believed he knew: to distract him, so that the end of the trade agreement would be on their favour.

Ai Elbereth, he had been a fool! He had suspected it from the start, and still fallen into their trap.

He should remember Thranduil and his youngest as prime example of cunning, deceitful liars and villains who would do anything for profit.

Or so he told himself, over and over and over again.

Yet he found he could not drive Legolas from his heart.

And so he suffered.

"Waiting for traders from some far away land?"

The king, standing on the over-looking cliff, glanced over his shoulder as Glorfindel strode towards him.

"I thought you had no interest in commerce," the king called back to him. "What brings you here?"

Glorfindel grinned as he came to stand beside him. "Yes, even when I was still a lord in Gondolin, never did that subject interest me. Bur since I have been... enamoured... by a councillor, who fancies discussing this kind of things rather than battle strategies, I decided it was time I started taking interest in matters of trade. Don't you agree?"

"Ah, a councillor. Could it be Master Erestor?"

Glorfindel just smiled. "A delegation? From Mirkwood?" He asked instead, nodding at the group of elves drawing close. "Doesn't look like a group of merchants to me," he observed. "More like an entourage of a royal family."

Arathorn squinted his able eye to observe more the approaching group. Glorfindel was right. It was more of a royal entourage than a simple merchant group, with that large number of elven guards and the banner of Mirkwood being regally and proudly displayed.

Then Glorfindel started and stared, not quite sure if he should trust his own eyesight or not.

"What is it?" Arathorn demanded. "Is something amiss?"

"I think that's king Thranduil himself on the front," Glorfindel said quietly, his gaze not leaving the approaching group. "Why would he come here? And who's that ellon with him?"

Arathorn glanced at his old friend. "Ellon?"

Glorfindel nodded, then turned to the king with shrewd look. "A young ellon."

The king's eye patch moved as he raised his eyebrow questioningly. "A young ellon?"

"A young and beautiful ellon," the Elda confirmed. He gave the king a questioning, sidelong glance. "I think I should fetch Aragorn."

"No, don't bring Aragorn here," the king said evenly. "Have him wait in the hall – and don't tell him anything. Just say I want him to be there when I return."

Legolas minded the reins of his horse nervously as his gaze darted from his stern father to the white castle in the distance, then to the gate ahead.

Now that he was here, so near Aragorn's home, he wished he wasn't. He wished he had not told his father that Aragorn was the father of his child. He wished he had kept the secret rather than face what could be a painful and public humiliation if Aragorn refused to see him.

He wished he had not thought to make one last, desperate attempt at happiness.

Surely he was right to feel this sense of foreboding. A man as honourable as Aragorn must hate him for his deception and involving him in that deception, whether he bore his child or not.

Perhaps even more for bearing his child out of wedlock.

If his father had any though to force a marriage, Legolas knew that would be hopeless: Aragorn, and surely his father, too, would never be coerced into something like that.

Neither would he. Not anymore.

Yet here he was, terrified of meeting Aragorn under these circumstances, yet still feeling undeniable joy at the simple possibility of seeing his face again.

As they neared the gate, a horn was blown, announcing the arrival of the Mirkwood elves. The gates opened, and as they entered the city, he spied a regal figure atop of a magnificent horse. He wore an eye patch, a deep scar snaked out of it down on his cheek. Thick, black hair hung to his shoulders, which were broad and powerful despite his years. His cloak was thrown over one shoulder, revealing his sword.

The king was obviously a warrior to be reckoned with.

The king wore a welcoming smile, and as they approached him, he realized that the king's smile had eased some of his trepidation, until he also realized that he would not know who he was, or why his father had brought him here.

Nervously he smoothed his loose tunic over his rounded stomach and tucked a stray lock of hair back into place.

When they finally entered the citadel and stopped right in front of the waiting king, he raised his eyes to encounter the king's searching gaze. Flushing under his scrutiny, he stared at the mane of his horse instead.

"Greetings, king Thranduil!" The king cried jovially. "I am delighted you could pay us a visit. And who is this fair ellon?"

This is no friendly sojourn," Thranduil replied grimly. "My son, Legolas, has been disgraced by your son."

Legolas risked another glance at the king, whose face looked very grave – like Aragorn's – as he ran his gaze over him.

"Disgraced?" He asked calmly.

"Shamed. Ruined. Your son took his virginity and got him with child before he left Mirkwood – and he was already pledged to another!"

"Ah! Is this true?" He asked with surprising, and unexpected, gentleness.

Legolas met his steadfast gaze and nodded slowly. "Yes, I bear his child."

"Do you doubt his word?" Thranduil demanded.

"Not at all."

"Has your son said nothing of what he did?

The king's lips jerked into a little smile. "He was always a quiet boy."

"Whether he told you or no, I will see justice is done for my son and his child."

The king held out his hands in a gesture of calming supplication. "Come, Thranduil! We are all friends here. Indeed, it sounds as if we are all relatives here. I am quite sure any misunderstandings can be made right at Gondor. Let me escort you to my castle."

He gave Legolas a warm and sympathetic look. "I am sure my wife will want to meet the one who carries her grandchild. If you will excuse me, I'll just give some instructions to my servants."

Legolas watched as the king talked to some of his men. He sounded so kind, and not the least upset.

He risked a glance at his father, whose expression was decidedly different.

"He acts as if nothing is amiss," Thranduil muttered, glowering. "He has better come to understand that it is!"

"Or maybe we should go home," Legolas suggested.

"No. They must show some responsibility with their deeds!"

"Father... Please..."

"No child of mine will be dishonoured as such!" Thranduil said to him firmly.

Legolas fell silent. It was futile trying to argue with him, just as he had known it would be hopeless to try to make him realize being brought here was more shameful to him than being with child out of wedlock in Mirkwood.

The king returned to them as his men scattered, attending to the duties that their king had assigned to them.

"Thranduil, your men will be escorted to their quarters now and will be brought some refreshments," the king said with that smile still on his lips. "I will escort you myself. I wasn't expecting such a large and important visitor, but I made sure that all your needs will be to your and you men's satisfaction."

Together, they rode the short distance towards the castle of Minas Tirith. The king decided to ride between Thranduil and Legolas, so that he could talk to them easily, not needing to look past of the other. He looked at Legolas, and smiled at him warmly.

"I confessed I did not know my son had such an excellent taste in choosing someone," Arathorn said in his deep melodious voice.

Legolas made a small smile in return. "He did not tell me his father was so charming."

The king chuckled softly. They continued on their way toward the large stone edifice in the distance.

_Tbc..._

Chapter 18, up! I hope you enjoyed this one as well. Please read and review! ^^


	19. Chapter 19

**AUTHORESS' NOTE: **I was delayed. I know, I know. I wasn't able to upload for two weeks. I'm so sorry. I've been busy this last few days with some much needed vacation, occasions, plus the rush of the yuletide season. But hey, I'm here now, with my Christmas gift for you all: the next and final chapter! Hooray! At last, this story has come to its end. Honestly, I am both sad and relieved. Sad, because this story is now finished and I have to say goodbye to you all for a while, until another idea comes up inside my head again, or another inspiration comes my way again, haha. Relieved, because for the time being I can focus on other things, particularly on my still unread books and my dusty violin. I never had a chance to learn how to play it, hopefully now I can. So... this is it guys, I'm going to miss you so much. Thank you for everything. Thank you for the love and support. Thank you for staying with me until the end. I love you all! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Mwah!

**Silmarlfan1** – Okay, okay, your wish is my command... :D

**Robinsmum **– Yes, yes, I meant for Arathorn to be extraordinary, hehe. Well... let's just say many days had passed since they parted, haha, so lazy to compute time, sorry. ^^v

**Trollalalala **– There, there, don't cry. It's meant to happen, or else there won't be any drama, right? Hush no, it's all over now.

**Aralas** – Haha, well, my friend, I thank you for the constructive comment. Yes, I know that Arathorn's behaviour is so... not normal... haha. But I think that kind of carefree attitude will piss Thranduil more, so, there you go.

**DifferentHeart **– I do hope that this chapter will be as promising as you thought it to be. Thank you!

**Juanitastella** – One more time!

**The 'waiter** – Oh no, we can't let that happen! Here, here, here's the next chapter. Read, read, please read.

**Anonymous guest** – Thank you, thank you, thank you very much.

**Animebooklover14** – Awww... I'm so fluttered. Thank you. By the way, here's the next chapter, sadly, this is also the last chappie. Hope you'll enjoy this one!

**Tmelange** – Thank you, here's the next chappie.

**Geeky-fangirl** – Haha, thank you. Please enjoy this chapter.

**Justme** – just... you... haha, peace. And because you are so kind to say that this story is awesome, here's the next chapter.

And so now... I face the final curtain... Heh? Is my line correct? Haha. Anyway guys, thank you for staying with me until the end, but now the time has come for as to part... for the meantime. Yes, I'll be back in the future, don't worry. Again, thank you guys, I love you. Hugs and kisses! Please enjoy. And don't forget to leave a review.

As Legolas sat atop his horse, he let his gaze rove the surroundings. People were casting them curious glances, pondering as who they were, and why such large number of elves were in their kingdom. Instead of talan up trees, people of Gondor lived in stone houses, as other humans do, of course. But their houses were white, as if it was their tradition to paint their homes in that colour.

It was a lovely place, though could not be compared to his home of green trees and splashing rivers.

If only things had been different! If only he could have been travelling to this castle as Prince Elessar's mate!

What would he think of his arrival today? More importantly, perhaps, what would he think when he saw that he was with child?

Would he be a little pleased to see him, or would he curse him to his face?

All too soon, and yet not soon enough, the white tree of Gondor came to their view, indicating that they have arrived at the courtyard of the castle.

So many thoughts ran through his heads, but all of those could not subvert his trepidation, however, which was not aided by the realization that a handsome man, attired in fine clothes, was only pretending to speak with one of the guards guarding the white tree. The man's speculative regard made him blush anew, and realize this visit was going to be a trial in many ways, and not just where Aragorn was concerned.

Without a word, the man went directly to the hall after a boy came to take their horses.

The king gave the man a rueful glance. "Pay no heed to Boromir," he said as Legolas gently got off his horse. "He's curious to see the one who could win my son's regard, that's all."

Legolas could scarcely breathe as he stared at the king.

His regard? The king thought he had Aragorn's regard? Did the king know something he did not?

He fought to control his tumultuous feelings. Whatever Aragorn had felt for him once, that was probably gone and he dare not hope otherwise.

A cherished child, Aragorn would never be able to understand the forces that compelled him to do what he did.

"Allow me to escort you inside the king said," swiping his hand towards the hall gallantly.

Legolas walked beside the king, grateful, as they strode towards the large hall. His father was still scowling as they entered the huge hall. Fine tapestries hung on the walls and a fire blazed in the hearth.

Legolas only noted these things with a small portion of his mind, for all his attention was claimed by the tall man standing beside an unknown woman,

Aragorn.

He wanted to run to him, to beg his forgiveness, to plead for his love – and yet he did not so much as meet his eye as he blushed with shame.

"Ah, my son!" the king called as Aragorn approached them. "There is an ellon here who claims an acquaintance with you."

Aragorn tried not to betray anything – not surprise, or joy, or shock, or dismay, even though all those emotions warred within him when he looked at him and saw the change to his body.

Legolas bore his child!

Or somebody else's, perhaps. If Legolas could keep his betrothal to him, what else might he be capable of concealing?

"Yes, I know him," he said, trying to sound calm. "I am surprised to see him here."

"Know?" Thranduil bellowed. "That's a fine way to put it! You've got a child in him, you... you!"

"I thought he would be a consort of a prince by now."

"_You_ thought!" Thranduil snarled. "Hoped, more like, so that your betrayal of a host's trust would go undetected. I should run you through for what you've done!"

Aragorn's hand drifted toward his sword. "I don't think that would be wise, King Thranduil."

"Come, come!" Arathorn protested placatingly. "I am sure this is all a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?" Thranduil cried incredulously. "He's shamed my son! There's no misunderstanding that!"

The serene woman who had been standing beside Aragorn came forward.

Arathorn addressed her. "Gilraen, may I present Thranduil, king of Mirkwood, and his son, Legolas. Thranduil, Legolas, this is my wife, Gilraen."

As Queen Gilraen bowed her head in acknowledgement, Legolas suddenly wanted this woman to like him, or at least not to hate him, as Aragorn obviously did. He had barely looked at him, and when Aragorn did...

Legolas wished he would not, because what he saw in the man's face only confirmed his worst fears.

They should not have come!

"We are delighted to have you in our hall," Queen Gilraen said in a kind, maternal voice.

His hand on his breast, Thranduil swiftly bowed his head, before speaking to the king again. "This is no courtesy visit, Arathorn. Your son has dishonoured mine, and I demand compensation."

"Compensation, is it?" The king replied. "I suggest we all sit down if we're going to talk business."

He asked a servant to bring them some wine, before gesturing at the chairs surrounding the hearth. "Please, Thranduil, sit."

"Arathorn," Queen Gilraen said softly, "must Aragorn and Legolas be a part of this? Surely they would rather be alone."

It did not ease Legolas' intense discomfort to see the look that passed over Aragorn's face at that suggestion.

"Mother," Aragorn began sternly.

"She's right," the king interrupted with a tone of unexpected and unmistakeable command. "Aragorn, take Legolas to the garden."

Aragorn wanted very much to refuse, but he didn't want to disobey his father, or listen to Thranduil's complaints.

Telling himself that taking Legolas to the garden was the lesser of two evils, he held out his hand to escort him there.

When Legolas took his hand, he commanded himself to ignore the thrill of his touch. Nor would he give in to his overwhelming desire to tell the elf how much he still loved him. Or that seeing him again instantly revived all the passion he felt for him. Indeed, it seemed to have grown a hundredfold, despite his efforts to forget him.

Legolas had betrayed his trust, and that is what he would remember, he told himself as he led Legolas outside the hall.

_Did every servant and hireling in the Minas Tirith have to be in the courtyard today?_ Aragorn wondered as he crossed the open space, aware of their curious scrutiny. No doubt Boromir had spread the news of these visitors all over the castle.

He began to walk a little faster, or the next thing he knew, his ancient mentor would come out demanding to know what was happening.

How could he tell Lord Glorfindel, when he didn't know himself?

Legolas panted a little as he tried to match Aragorn's long, angry stride. He could have put up with the man, if not for the fact that he was pregnant, making his body condition somewhat unusual, and then there was also the fact that all his worrying and thinking was already taking its toll on him.

Fortunately, Aragorn halted outside a gate in a stone wall. He opened it and led him into a lovely garden.

Roses of many hues, from the palest to the deepest red, climbed upon the stone walls. Other flowers grew in the beds beside the brick pathways, their delicate odours mingling with the roses in a very pleasant way.

Under other circumstances, Legolas would have been delighted with his surroundings. Now, they only added to his sense of loss.

Aragorn pointed to a stone bench and Legolas sat gratefully upon it, although it was as cold as Aragorn's manner.

The man didn't sit beside him but stood a few paces away, seemingly engrossed in the roses.

"This is my mother's favourite place," Aragorn remarked after a long moment. "She likes to sit here in the evening when the weather is fine."

"It is very lovely," Legolas replied softly. "Aragorn, I..."

Suddenly Aragorn whirled upon him. "Do you really bear my child?"

"You do not have to acknowledge it."

"How can I be sure that it is mine?"

His question pained him like a slap. "You have to take my word."

"Your word?" Aragorn demanded sceptically.

Legolas rose and faced him, clasping his hands together and raising his chin. "I was not honest with you about Limuel, Aragorn. Believe me, I know it. I knew it then, but I would do everything the same again for the brief time we had together."

A strange expression flickered across Aragorn's face. "Where is Limuel now? Did he break the betrothal when he found out you were with another man's child?"

He didn't know I was with child when he rode away."

Aragorn blinked. "What do you mean, 'rode away'?"

"I mean he rode away a month ago without a word to anyone, except to father."

A long silence followed.

"Then there will be no marriage?"

"Do not feel sorry for me, Aragorn," Legolas said. He didn't keep his own disgust out of his voice as he made a bitter smile. "I don't know why father insisted that we come here, though I have a very good guess why: to ask for 'compensation' as he said earlier. At last, I have some value to him."

Aragorn walked away and fingered the petals of one of the roses. "You should have been honest with me, Legolas. You should have told me that you were already promised to another in marriage."

"I could not."

Aragorn glanced at him sharply. "Were you suddenly struck mute, that you could not?"

"No!" Legolas faced him resolutely. "I could not marry you, so I did what I did because I knew it was my only chance to be loved. I wanted to be loved – and for once in my life, I _was_ loved."

"Then you dishonoured yourself and made me a part of that dishonour."

Legolas grabbed Aragorn's arms and forced him to look at his pleading yet defiant face. "Yes, I was selfish. I thought to take a moment's happiness with you. I would do it again. Can you not understand? Can you not conceive of my heartache when I learned I had to marry Limuel, or the Saxons might think my father was turning back to his oath? I had no choice, no say in my own marriage, so I _chose_ to be with you for the little time I could.

"What of me?" Aragorn retorted. "You gave no consideration to me in your selfishness. I thought you understood that I do not shoe my feelings easily, but that I do have them, and unlike some, I do not love lightly. Yet no matter how strong those feelings, I prize honour, and duty and trust, too. I would not have lied to you, as you have done to me. I would not have dishonoured myself, or you, as you have done, for the sake of a necessarily brief physical union. _You should have told me._"

"If you have learned of my betrothal to Limuel, you would never have come near me again," Legolas countered. "The Valars help me; I was weak and selfish, because I couldn't bear that. If you cannot understand –"

Legolas turned away abruptly, too upset to remain.

"Where are you going?" Aragorn demanded.

"I am leaving. This was wrong, and I am sorry. Know that I will raise your child as well as I can, Aragorn. You may see your offspring whenever you like if you come to Mirkwood. Now I think I had best go to my father and tell him I will not stay here any longer. Goodbye."

Aragorn reached for him and pulled him to a stop. "Legolas!"

Aragorn let go, but his gaze held Legolas with an even strong grip than his hand. "You would make the same decision again?"

Legolas lifted his chin and regarded him steadily. "Yes, I would."

"Why?"

"Because..." Legolas' defiance dissipated, to be replaced with sorrow. "Because I loved you."

Aragorn's expression altered. "Loved? What do you feel for me now?"

Legolas did not answer. Could not, because he could scarcely draw a breath as he looked into Aragorn's yearning eyes.

Aragorn's gaze faltered and his voice dropped. "I did not want a moment's happiness. I wanted you for my bonded mate."

"Only the knowledge that many might suffer if I did not keep my father's word made me deceive you," Legolas said, his heart racing with a hope that would not be quelled because of what he saw in the man's grave eyes.

"You said you would not have come here if your father had not forced you," Aragorn reminded Legolas gently. "If I am the true father of your child, why not?"

"I thought you must hate me now."

Aragorn slowly shook his head, "I could never hate you – and I did try, Legolas," he confessed softly. "But I will love you until I die."

"Oh, Aragorn!" Legolas gasped.

"Since your former betrothed has willingly let go of what he never deserved, dare I hope – "

"Yes! Yes!"

Happiness overwhelming him, Legolas threw himself into Aragorn's welcoming embrace – and discovered he was crying.

"Hush, now, hush," Aragorn crooned tenderly, holding the elf gently.

"Forgive me for deceiving you," Legolas said, choking and sobbing and smiling all at the same time, scarcely daring to believe that Aragorn loved him still.

"Forgive _me_ for being a proud, stubborn, overly cautious fool who tried to ignore his heart. I should have gone to your father at once, not waited." He drew back and smiled tenderly at him. "I shall have to amend my error, Legolas. We must be married as soon as possible.

"Only... only because I bear your child?" Legolas asked.

Aragorn's smile grew and love shone from the depths of his eyes. "Only because I love you and my life will be empty without you. Nothing would make me happier than to have you for my mate. Say you will make me the most blessed man in all Arda as soon as we can arrange it."

Tremendous joy filled Legolas as he smiled, gloriously happy and certain of his love. "I will!"

Laughing with pure bliss in a way Legolas had never heard, Aragorn hugged him again – then kissed him with all the passion Legolas remembered, dreamed of, yearned for.

"Promise me we will never be apart ever again!" Aragorn murmured.

Someone suddenly, and loudly, cleared his throat.

They swiftly moved apart, to see Thranduil standing at the garden gate with King Arathorn beside him.

Aragorn's arm went around Legolas' shoulders and he felt no trepidation. He would never be afraid of anything again, and his father could never hurt him again, because Aragorn loved him.

"Obviously, they have reached an understanding," Arathorn said, glancing at Thranduil. "My son, do you want to marry this young ellon?"

"Right away, father."

"Good, good. I was sure you would, so I've already agreed to a betrothal, and unlike some brash elves, we keep our promises."

Legolas looked from King Arathorn, to his father. "You've... you've agreed?"

"Aye, and why not?" Thranduil replied. "His son's already been poaching in my forest."

"Well, Thranduil, surely this arrangement eases your suffering. If I do not know better, you've been planning this all along, or at least, tried to," Arathorn remarked casually.

"Shut up, Arathorn," Thranduil hissed.

Legolas' eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange between the two kings. He felt Aragorn's hand squeezed his shoulder firmly. He looked at Aragorn, and smiled, loving him. And his father, too, for helping to make his happiness possible.

He tore his gaze from Aragorn to address the king of Gondor. "Thank you," he said softly, and sincerely. He was surprised to see the man blush.

"The least I could do," the king mumbled. "You should thank your father, too, for it was him who suggested it first. But mind you, he just beat me in saying it. Then he turned to Thranduil. "Come, I think a celebratory drink is in order."

Thranduil nodded and the two departed,

Later that night during an impromptu feast to celebrate her only son's betrothal, Queen Gilraen surveyed the hall. Nearby, the Arathorn regaled Thranduil with tales and copious amounts of wine.

Before the feast and while Legolas had a few moments' rest, Gilraen had shared a quiet conversation with Aragorn. During that talk, he had told her of Legolas' life in Mirkwood, and she felt a growing respect and sympathy to his future son-in-law. She had also already heard Thranduil's side of the story. Although the elven king only did that because of his great love for his son, it cannot be denied that it was a very wrong judgement and had caused more hurt than good, especially on Legolas' part. And although it would be hard and long, Thranduil told them that he wanted to make it up to Legolas. Bringing the prince here in Gondor was a start.

She caught sight of her quiet, and usually grave son, who had managed to manoeuvre his future mate into one of the darker corners of the hall. Apparently they seemed to find it necessary to conduct their conversation in a most intimate manner.

Queen Gilraen stifled a smile. She wished their courtship had been smoother. Adversity either strengthened a relationship or destroyed it, and it pleases her to think Aragorn's had withstood a test.

A glass of wine was offered to her by a grinning Glorfindel.

She inclined her head, and smiled, as she accepted the offered drink, then looked back at the direction of the couple.

"Do I look that ridiculous when I'm in love?"

"Ridiculous? Aragorn never looks ridiculous, and I've never seen you in love," Queen Gilraen replied evenly.

That brought a shocked look to the Elven Lord. "I've been in love plenty times!"

She smiled indulgently. "Not like that," she said, then looked straight into the Elda's eyes. "Though, I think you're starting to right now."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Gilraen smiled knowingly. "Shall I choose a gift for you to bring in your return to Rivendell? I know a few books that a _very_ dear _councillor_ I know will love."

Glorfindel choked at his wine. He cleared his throat as dignified as he could manage. "If you will pardon me, my lady, I suppose I should wish Aragorn every happiness.

He made a move to go, but Queen Gilraen held him back. "Later," she said quietly. "Let them, be alone."

Then she got a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "After all, if I don't know better, if you will be given a chance to be alone with Master Erestor, you will not want to be interrupted either."

_The end..._


End file.
